


Unfinished Business

by Jenn_Harper



Series: Another Kind of Odyssey [2]
Category: Ancient History RPF, Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brasidas in posthumous flashback, Established Relationship, Family, Historical, Historical References, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, One small instance of angst, Past Relationship(s), Relationship Problems, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Relationship, Stentor as a developing character, thalexios
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24401368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenn_Harper/pseuds/Jenn_Harper
Summary: Stentor arrives at Stymphalos, where Thaletas and Alexios settled three years previously. He comes with a message: Alcibiades is in Sparta, and wants to see Alexios - urgently.Answering this seemingly innocent request will sweep them all into events they could not foresee, and had hoped would never occur...Most of the characters are taken from the game, but there are a couple that I've carried over from my earlier work, and certain plot elements are continued in this story, too.I’ve used the actual history of the times as much as possible and have added in some footnotes to explain stuff I mention in the story that isn't explained in the game; but just as the game does, I've glossed over some details and made a few decisions about historical figures' involvement in things which may or may not be true; I have pointed out these places in the footnotes :)Anyway - I hope you enjoy it! :)
Relationships: Alexios/Thaletas (Assassin's Creed)
Series: Another Kind of Odyssey [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868671
Comments: 34
Kudos: 49





	1. Stymphalos

Stentor approached the village from the south, his horse ambling at a slow walk. It was the very beginning of spring, so the weather on his ride from Sparta had been pleasant. He’d taken it easy, enjoying some time with his thoughts.  
Stymphalos was at its best in the spring. For reasons he had never spent much thought on, anytime he reached the outskirts of the town, he always took the right fork in the road rather than the left. The left would have been quicker to reach his destination – Alexios’ house. He thought, a little guiltily, that he did it because he liked to look up at the distant mountain peak to the east where the Stymphalian Bird dominated the skyline, rusted and dark against the drifting white clouds in the blue sky; imposing and… moving somehow.   
Stentor took a long moment to admire the statue, then looked in the opposite direction, across a small section of water to his brother’s house. Coming this way, he would cross the bridge, circle around the house and approach it from the north. It was a double storey place which dominated the centre of the town. It was set right on the lake edge, amidst the willow trees, which were swaying gently in the breeze, fronds stirring the water into spreading ripples. Though Stentor had never been a great admirer of beauty, not of the landscape and flowers variety - that seemed too Athenian for him – he allowed that Stymphalos was pretty.  
The town was spread out behind Alexios’ house: a small collection of cottages; a guesthouse; a small agora; and he could see a few people busy about their business, paying no mind to Alexios and Thaletas, who were sparring in the space beside the house. Stentor watched them for a moment across the water and then g’d up his horse.   
As Stentor rode towards them around the lake, he frowned. The Eagle Bearer was of course a legend that everyone in the Greek world had heard of, supposedly a demi-god and immortal if you listened to the talk of soldiers. There had even been rumours in the past few years that he had been taken up to Olympos, the idea of which made Stentor snort to himself. The reality was much more humdrum than that: Alexios and Thaletas had gone to ground here in Stymphalos when some bastard Athenian General had put a bounty on Alexios’ head that was large enough to buy the whole damn town – or, as had actually happened, to raise a whole army of mercenaries who had been searching for him ever since, and Stentor supposed, more than a few had found him and rested now under the soil of the forests around Stymphalos. Stentor grimaced; he’d seen enough of them in Sparta, asking around about Alexios, to know that there had been no lessening in the number of men coming in search for his brother in the intervening years. If anything, the number increased as the Peace of Nicias stretched out and well-paying work was harder to come by.  
He drew near the house, and brought his horse to a halt to watch them sparring. He had seen the two men train enough to know that Alexios usually got the upper hand; but sometimes, as looked to be the case that day, the smaller, quicker man –Thaletas the Lame Spartan, as they called him on account of his limp - triumphed.  
Stentor had had years to adjust to the reality that the two mercenaries were together and had eyes for no one else. To begin with, when Alexios announced to the family over dinner that he and Thaletas were going to live together in Arkadia, Stentor had been stunned and appalled. He’d made a scene, shouting at Alexios that he was disgusting, which his brother bore with eyes that apologised, but a resolutely set jaw. Stentor had stormed from the house, thinking that this was a disgusting aberration of the way that Spartans were supposed to act.  
Nikolaos had sought him out later, and they’d had one of their rare talks about something other than Sparta and army business. He’d pointed out to Stentor that, although Alexios was a Spartan by citizenship and by blood, he was not and never would be at heart – a fact Nikolaos had accepted long before. He reasoned that Alexios could not be expected to live as a true Spartan did.  
‘But Thaletas is,’ Stentor had pointed out, with a fierce scowl. ‘He’s a feted General, by the gods, and surely this behaviour will bring Sparta into disrepute.’  
Nikolaos had smiled then. Resting a hand on Stentor’s shoulder, he’d said, ‘I’m sure Sparta is more resilient than that – and so are you.’  
Stentor hadn’t argued further, but had privately thought he would never be able to face the two men again; but as time had passed, and various family events pushed them together, he found that deep down, he felt quite the contrary. As he watched the two men sparring, laughing in between strikes, he sighed. Over time, he had come to view his reaction with a sense of shame, and acknowledged that they suited one another. Thaletas was likable as a man, and he had a softening effect on Alexios’ arrogance, which Stentor had always felt he badly needed.   
No. He found he was fascinated by their happiness, which he had so rarely seen between any couples, and perhaps even a little jealous.  
At that moment, they were caught in a grip, before Thaletas did something which happened too quickly for Stentor to see, and floored Alexios. He landed on his back with an ‘ooph’. Thaletas grinned down at him, and held a hand to help Alexios rise - a kind of joking insult. Their eyes met, shining as though they had just made love. The intensity of the look made Stentor flush, as though he had walked in on them in the middle of lovemaking.  
Alexios laughed and sprung to his feet without assistance, saying, ‘Very good! You got me, but just you wait until tomorrow!’  
Thaletas grinned back, and said with mock curiosity, ‘I can’t think why this is happening more regularly. Can it be that you’re getting... slow?’  
‘He’s definitely getting slow,’ Stentor interjected with his vinegary smile, dismounting.   
Thaletas and Alexios looked up, having been oblivious to anything beyond the sparring ring, and Alexios snorted but said genially, ‘Thanks, Stentor! We weren’t expecting you.’  
Before he could reply to that, Thaletas said, ‘It’s good to see you. We heard at the beginning of winter that you were seriously unwell?’  
Stentor shrugged dismissively. ‘I’ve lived through worse.’ The truth was, he’d never been so ill, but he believed that such things should be borne without complaint.  
Alexios turned into the house, and Thaletas followed, inviting Stentor in.  
Alexios tossed his blunted practice sword onto the table with a loud clatter, while Thaletas placed his carefully into a weapons rack – a contrast that made Stentor smile to himself, but he grew serious as he said, ‘Pater sent me. He expected you in Sparta days ago.’  
Alexios frowned. ‘Why?’  
‘He sent you a message – it didn’t arrive?’  
‘No,’ Alexios said briefly. ‘Wine?’  
Stentor seated himself at the table, and said yes to the wine. Alexios walked into the next room to fetch an amphora and beakers.  
In the meantime, Stentor looked around the room, which was austere in its character, as you’d expect; decorated, if it could be called decorating, with an impressive collection of armour and weapons displayed on racks and stands. He’d been in the house before, but he’d never noticed the old rusted helmet which had been placed on its own plinth in one corner.   
‘Where did that helmet come from?’ he asked Thaletas.  
‘It was my grandfather’s,’ he replied. ‘He died at Thermopylae.’ He smiled fondly at Alexios, who was returning with the wine. ‘When we first met, I’d lost it in a shipwreck off the coast of Mykonos, and Alexios retrieved it for me.’  
Stentor wrinkled his nose, which made Thaletas twinkle at Alexios in amusement. Stentor thought that they had become more openly sentimental with the passing years, and though it bothered him, he couldn’t find it in himself to tell them to stop, though he thought he probably should. What he didn’t realise was that they did it on purpose to prickle at him, enjoying his discomfort, as most brothers do.   
Stentor took the wine from his brother and took a large mouthful.  
‘Now; what was the message?’ Alexios asked, seating himself across from his brother; relaxing, Stentor thought, but never entirely at rest.  
Watching Alexios closely, he said, ‘Alcibiades is in Sparta, and he wishes to see you. As soon as you can get there, he said.’ Stentor had been home when Alcibiades had come very boldly to the house of Leonidas and requested – demanded even - that Nikolaos get word to Alexios. Stentor had thought the Athenian acted as if he and Alexios were old friends, and he had jumped to the conclusion that there must be some hidden history between his brother and this effeminate Athenian, but Alexios’ face gave nothing away. He couldn’t help himself, and asked, ‘Do you know Alcibiades well?’  
Alexios leant back, considering the question. ‘We met often when I was living in Athens, looking for mater. We were pushed together by circumstance and I made the best of it. I wouldn’t say we were ever friends though.’ He shook his head lightly, and despite himself, he glanced at Thaletas, feeling wary. Thaletas glanced back, a shadow of a frown appearing on his brow.  
Alexios was acutely conscious that it was during his time in Athens that he had been romantically involved with Timotheos, the ex-Athenian soldier who’d lived in Kechries, not far from the city. Timotheos had died in the same year, killed by a bandit chief when Alexios had failed to keep his word. It was less than six months later that he met Thaletas, and he had still been mourning Timotheos at the time. He was acutely conscious that he’d never told Thaletas any of that, chiefly to avoid his lover’s notorious jealousy. He justified this by telling himself that Thaletas had never asked for details, and if he did, Alexios would tell him the whole truth; but any mention of Athens made him feel guilty. He cleared his throat and continued, ‘Alcibiades was always a little more interested in me than I invited. How long has he been in Sparta?’  
‘Since the beginning of winter,’ Stentor replied. ‘He’s an exile, staying with the ephor, Endius. He was apparently condemned to execution by the Athenians for something religious – I don’t really know the details. He’s come, so they say, to try to persuade Sparta to get involved in Sicily, to defend Syracuse.’  
Alexios frowned, thinking that if Sparta agreed to what he wanted, then that would reignite the war – an outcome that Alexios fervently hoped would not happen. He looked at Thaletas and raised his eyebrows. Thaletas nodded, and Alexios said, ‘We’ll come to Sparta with you.’  
‘Good,’ Stentor said, drinking off the last of his wine. ‘I’ll get the horses ready.’  
Thaletas and Alexios stood, and Thaletas took a step towards the door, but Alexios caught him by one hand and pulled him close. He dropped his head, kissing him warmly, lingeringly. He murmured, ‘I’ll be dreaming of having you back here every moment we’re away.’ They both knew that in Sparta, they could not be intimate. The house of Leonidas was far too small to have any kind of privacy, and they would not do anything disrespectful to the family.  
Thaletas returned the kiss and holding his gaze, he said, ‘Me too.’ Then he sighed. ‘Come on, we better not make Stentor wait. You know what he’s like.’  
Alexios rolled his eyes, but released him from his embrace with a smile.

They arrived in Sparta on sunset. The city always tugged at Stentor’s heartstrings; the skyline dominated by the severe lines of the temple to Athena Chalkioikos; the city, free of defensive walls due purely to the strength of her army; the strength of the Spartan men training in the road, who all turned to acknowledge him with a nod.   
He wasn’t so humble that he couldn’t admit that he liked the respect he got in the city. His successful conquest of Boeotia years earlier had been followed up by a string of victories across the Greek world. He’d returned to Sparta at the official announcement of peace, feeling, for the first time, that he was finally someone to be reckoned with.  
‘It’s good to be home,’ Stentor said.  
Alexios only grunted. For him, the city was just the place where his family lived, and where he and Thaletas had rediscovered each other. He didn’t belong there, not really, and he knew that Thaletas felt the same way; though as in most things, Thaletas was less forceful in his feelings on the matter. Everyone liked to say that the bonds of blood were the most important thing, but Alexios had come to disagree with this accepted view. He wondered what Stentor would say to that if he’d known his opinion. His pure Spartan heart would probably give out, Alexios thought with a grin. He might have to mention it sometime.  
They left their horses at the stables just off the main thoroughfare and approached the House of Leonidas on foot. Even before they could see the house, they could hear women fighting.  
‘Your face is so sour you could pickle vegetables with it!’ That was Kassandra.  
‘And yours could turn milk!’ That was Elene.  
‘For the last time, you two - you’re grown women; try behaving like it!’ And that was Myrrine, sounding fed up.  
‘Is Elene still hanging around?’ Alexios asked in surprise. He’d expected, after even Stentor had rejected her that she’d have found somewhere else to take herself.  
Stentor rolled his eyes. ‘Myrrine encourages her. She seems to have decided that she and Kassandra should be friends – hoping perhaps that they’ll humanise each other. She has them sparring regularly now, though Kassandra is too impatient to really teach her anything, and Elene takes a beating every time.’  
Alexios shook his head. ‘Stubborn to a fault,’ he said. He probably meant Myrrine, but Stentor thought he could be talking about any of the three women involved.  
They found Nikolaos sitting on a stool by the front door, preparing to go to the mess. He greeted them all quietly, then said, ‘You’re just in time, you two. Tidy yourselves up and we’ll go down.’  
Alexios knew what he meant: Both Thaletas and Stentor would go with him to eat at the mess with all the other Spartan men, as they had both been voted a place; while Alexios would eat at home with the women. Alexios showed nothing in his facial expression; but not for the first time, Stentor wondered if it hurt him when he was excluded like this. Perhaps he didn’t really care.  
‘I’ll see you later,’ Alexios said, casting a swift, caressing look at Thaletas which the ex-General returned. Then he grinned, ‘If it gets too hot here, I’ll go out to the house of Endius after the meal and speak with Alcibiades.’  
Nikolaos had a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth as he said, ‘You should just go now, then. It’s been a little too hot all afternoon.’  
Alexios grinned, but without further comment, went into the house.


	2. The Exile

As soon as he’d eaten, Alexios went out, leaving the women sitting in an uneasy state of truce. The meal had quieted them, but the two younger women continued to shoot daggers at one another with their eyes. Myrrine was determinedly making conversation, though she had to carry it alone for the most part.  
As he headed out of Sparta, he thought over what Myrrine had told him all about the ephor Endius. She’d sounded disapproving as she’d told Alexios that he was a very wealthy man, who owned most of the land around Pitana. It went against the ideals of being a Spartan.  
As Alexios mounted the hill which led up to the village proper, he rightly assumed that the farm buildings he was passing were Endius’- and there were a lot of them. The night slowly filled with the sounds of festivity - music, singing, and the sounds of laughter and talk. He came around the side of a barn and discovered that there was a symposium underway in and around a pergola set back from the road to his left, lit with lamps and decorated with garlands of spring flowers.  
‘Alexios! Look at you! As young and handsome as the last time I saw you!’ Alcibiades called out as he stumbled out of the pergola, a beaker of wine in one hand, an amphora in the other, smiling broadly.  
‘Alcibiades. It’s been a long time.’  
‘Oh – a hundred years at least!’  
‘I see you’ve found yourself some likeminded company, as always.’  
Alcibiades laughed. ‘Oh, you know me. I always find my feet!’  
Alexios smiled, but warily. Something about his tone didn’t ring true; though perhaps that was only because he had learnt never to trust what Alcibiades said. ‘I have to admit, I never expected to see you here in Sparta.’  
Alcibiades’ smile wavered just a little. ‘Neither did I, I can assure you.’  
Alexios tilted his head. ‘You needed something from me?’  
‘Yes. Follow me up to the house, where we can talk… privately.’  
He led Alexios along the road, a little further up the hill, to a double storey house, much larger than most of the others in Pitana. It was built on a neat, quiet road, right on the edge of the village, fields opening away to the north, with the mountains thrusting up into the sky beyond. Alcibiades gestured to two stools on a wide veranda at the front of the house looking out on this prospect, and they sat. The sounds of the symposium were muffled here. With the moon low on the horizon, they were in virtual darkness except for the very small pool of light coming from a pottery lamp. It was just enough that Alexios could make out the outline of Alcibiades’ features.  
Once they were seated, Alexios asked, ‘What happened? I heard you offended the gods.’  
Alcibiades gave a small laugh, the bitterness in it fathomless. ‘Oh yes - there’s been nothing but talk since I left Athens, so my few remaining friends tell me. It’s all political Alexios, and all of it is entirely untrue.’ He took a long drink of wine.  
Alexios didn’t reply. With his arms crossed, he waited.   
When he had refilled his beaker and began to speak again though, he didn’t continue his explanation; instead he said, ‘I heard a few things about you too, you know. Most astonishingly, I’m told you’ve abandoned Sparta for the arms of a younger man; lured away a Spartan General, no less.’  
Alexios snorted. ‘Who told you that?’  
‘I couldn’t possibly say,’ Alcibiades replied teasingly. ‘I’d reconciled myself to your rejecting me all those times back in Athens because I supposed you preferred women. I was devastated when I heard that wasn’t the case.’  
‘I’m sure you were,’ Alexios said, with a wry grin. He’d always appreciated Alcibiades’ flair for the dramatic, even if he hadn’t liked the man himself much. ‘Now, tell me what it is you want so I can tell you if I’ll do it or not.’  
Alcibiades took the redirection of the discussion with grace, only smiling a little to himself. He said, ‘I can trust entirely to your discretion, as I could before?’  
Alexios nodded. ‘Of course.’  
‘Then I’ll tell you what happened. It all started with a speech I made at the Pnyx, advocating that we send an expedition to Sicilia. It was a very good speech; the people were moved. Old Nicias - the so-called man of peace, you know - took up the idea and, in an attempt to make a mockery of me, he turned it into an enormous undertaking. We all knew that he was hoping to make it more expensive and out of proportion than the people would ever agree to, and thus destroy my standing. He read the mood of the people wrongly though, as he inevitably does; instead, his ridiculous plan caught their imaginations. So, it was voted that an enormous invasion force would be sent to Sicilia, and of course, as the idea was accredited to me, I was assigned as one of three Generals.’ He saw Alexios’ grin at the idea of Alcibiades as a General, and smiled a little at himself, but the smile faded as he continued, ‘There were many who didn’t agree with the expedition, and they wished to stop it from going ahead. They sought to sabotage the whole thing with a bad omen – they damaged the Herms, which shocked all of Athens.’ He laughed in a rather forced way as he said, ‘Of course it wasn’t me! I have better things to do than involve myself in sacrilegious vandalism!’   
He drank off his beaker, then poured himself another wine, before saying, ‘They wanted to put me on trial, and I was prepared to do it, but someone persuaded them to send me to Sicilia first instead, and to stand trial when I returned. That was part of the plot, of course. Once I was out of the city, and could no longer defend myself, they suddenly found a witness.’ He said the last word as though it tasted bad. He brooded for a moment.  
‘A witness?’ Alexios prompted.  
‘Andocides,’ he spat. ‘A nobody, determined to become a somebody by perjuring himself before the gods and his country - and destroying me.’  
Alexios had never seen Alcibiades so serious, and so very angry; but he realised that that was only because he was now being allowed to see the man Alcibiades had always been. When they’d first met all those years before, Alcibiades was just a young hedonist whose older cousin, Pericles, had shielded Alcibiades from many of the consequences of his actions. Now he was truly alone, amongst his hereditary enemies, and although he still wore the same mask, Alexios had now seen behind it. It wasn’t pretty. ‘He named you as one of the vandals?’   
‘Yes, but that’s not all. He also said he had witnessed me profane the Eleusian Mysteries at a private symposium – which I never did... well, certainly not before him, anyway,’ he added, something of his old twinkle sparkling briefly then fading again. ‘Anyway, the result you can surely guess. With such sins laid at my door, the people were compelled to vote that I be brought back to Athens to stand trial immediately. They sent a ship that I was ordered to follow in my own craft back to Athens; they were too cowardly to arrest me openly.’ He sneered. ‘Nicias was so happy to see me disgraced before the army in Sicilia, I can tell you.’ He paused, drinking deeply once more before he said, ‘My ship followed them as far as Thurii, then I gave them the slip. Luckily for me, my good friend Endius persuaded your kings Agis and Pleistoanax to allow me to come to Sparta.’  
Alexios asked curiously, ‘How do you know Endius?’  
‘My Grandfather was an ambassador to Lakonia before his passing, and he was a guest friend of Endius’ father. I’ve known Endius since I was a boy.’  
Alexios nodded. He’d always wondered why Alcibiades had a Spartan name. ‘That’s quite a story; but why do you need me?’  
Alcibiades looked at him then; in the low light, his eyes glittered. ‘I want you to assassinate Andocides, and find out who paid him to bear false witness. I will pay you more than you’ve probably earnt in this last year.’  
Alexios almost laughed. ‘You want me to go to Athens? That’s not possible, for any sum.’  
‘Why?’  
‘You know there’s an enormous bounty on me. Demosthenes wants my head.’  
Alcibiades almost purred as he said, ‘We all do, you know.’ He chuckled, for a moment his old self; then, in a more considered voice, he said, ‘I think Demosthenes will be too concerned with manoeuvring his way into the generalship in Sicilia to even notice you’re there.’ Then he tapped his lips thoughtfully. ‘How about this: in addition to your fee, I’ll have the bounty paid.’  
Alexios fell silent for a moment. This was too good an offer to refuse, and Alexios realised that Alcibiades knew it; even Thaletas, who was extremely cautious about what work they took, would think so, but would almost certainly resist Alexios’ going to Athens for any reason.   
Alexios stood. ‘I’ll think about it. I have other people to consider these days. I’ll let you know my answer in the morning.’  
Alcibiades pouted. ‘Surely your lover will be willing to part with you for a week or two!’  
Alexios resisted the urge to respond that he was probably more unwilling to part with Thaletas, that he would be to part from Alexios; but he said goodnight instead, and left, slipping out into the faint moonlight.  
Alcibiades watched him go. It was one of his great regrets that he’d never succeeded in getting that man into bed, and Alexios’ rejections he had joked about had really rankled. He found that he was rather jealous of the Lame Spartan, and of Alexios’ obvious happiness.   
Alcibiades’ jealousy in love was never of the really malicious sort, but he did enjoy the idea of causing Alexios some discomfort. He was confident that Alexios would take the job though; and he thought with sudden inspiration that it would be the prefect opportunity to do just that.

Alexios got back to the House of Leonidas and found it in silence. He entered the main room downstairs and saw that Thaletas was still awake, looking into the fire. He looked up when Alexios entered, smiling softly.  
Alexios sighed and relaxed. ‘Are you waiting up for me?’  
He nodded. ‘Did he tell you what he wanted?’  
Alexios pulled a stool up beside him, close enough that their thighs touched. ‘He did. The assassination of a man called Andocides. In Athens.’  
Thaletas’ face tightened. ‘Athens?’  
Alexios nodded. ‘He says he’s a nobody, a man who bore false witness against him at his trial. I’ll be able to slip in and out, no one will even know I’m there.’  
Thaletas could see he was keen to take the job, and frowned. ‘What about the bounty on your head?’  
‘He said he’d pay it off in addition to my fee, if I succeed.’  
Thaletas said thoughtfully, ‘That’s an enormous sum of drachmae; but the danger…’  
Alexios rested a hand on his thigh. ‘I told him I’d think about it. I haven’t accepted it yet.’  
Thaletas sighed, and placed his hand on top of Alexios’, gently rubbing the sensitive skin between Alexios’ fingers. It was enough to make Alexios harden, and as their eyes met, the fire of their love, never far beneath the surface, flared up.   
Thaletas released his hand and with difficulty brought his thoughts back from the dangerously sensuous path they were pursuing. In a businesslike tone, he said, ‘It’s too good an offer to refuse. You have to take it.’  
Alexios gave a regretful sigh, adjusting himself. ‘Yes – That’s what I thought.’  
Thaletas asked, ‘When will you go?’  
‘In the morning, I suppose,’ Alexios said.   
Thaletas nodded slowly. ‘Alright. I’ll stay here until you get back. I’ve agreed to go with Stentor to the religious games tomorrow anyway.’  
Alexios quirked an eyebrow. ‘Lucky you!’  
‘I could hardly say no.’ He glanced up at Alexios, and added in a melancholy tone, ‘Isadora will be performing. It will be good to see her, even from a distance.’  
Alexios could only rest his forehead against Thaletas’ in sympathy. Isadora, Thaletas’ mother, had been devastated by Thaletas’ decision to live with Alexios. He was her only child; she had been determined that he should get married and have grandchildren. When Thaletas made it clear that that wasn’t going to happen, she had furiously ordered him out of her house and declared that he was no longer her son. She’d marched immediately to the House of Leonidas and spewed vitriolic accusations at Alexios, which he had borne with gritted teeth until Myrrine, stalwart in her support, had interposed and demanded that Isadora leave the house.  
In the aftermath, Alexios had gone into the men’s sleeping chamber afterwards feeling sick to his stomach, and found that Thaletas had returned in time to hear his mother’s tirade through the wall. He was crying his heart out – one of only three or four times Alexios had seen him cry at all. He’d gathered him up into his arms, and done his best to comfort him; but Thaletas had never really recovered. There remained a shadow on his heart that their happiness together had never entirely dispelled.  
For a long time afterwards, Thaletas had tried to speak with Isadora, to reach her, but she’d remained resolutely shut off from him. In the end he’d told Alexios he could no longer bear to tear the wound open over and over again, and stopped trying. He’d never really accepted it though, Alexios knew; always hoping that the next time their paths crossed, she would be her old self again.  
Alexios said gently, ‘I can stay for a couple more days, if you’d prefer?’  
Thaletas shook his head slightly, looking into the fire. ‘No, I’ll be alright.’  
Alexios nodded. He wanted to be there for his love, but he knew that his presence could make things worse. In the unlikely event that Isadora wished to speak with Thaletas, Alexios’ presence would stop her from doing so.   
With a sigh, he also acknowledged that the sooner he went, the sooner this would all be over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Note: Alcibiades was exiled from Athens and fled to Sparta as recounted here; allegedly for damage to the Herms – statues of Hermes which had a head at the top, and male genitalia at the bottom, which the vandals knocked off – and for allegedly profaning the Eleusian Mysteries at a symposium (a cult initiation rite, the details of which remain unknown today). Thucydides in his account of the Peloponnesian War says that Alcibiades was the victim of a plot to topple him from power and influence, but this is by no means the certain truth, and I have run with the possibility that he was involved. The details of his speech in the Pnyx to sway the people to invade Sicilia is also true, as is Nicias' enmity towards Alcibiades and his inflation of the expedition.  
> Both Endius the ephor and Andocides were real historical figures.


	3. Mothers... and a Snake.

Alexios was awake as dawn arrived with her first shades of light in the eastern sky. The men’s sleeping chamber, which he and Thaletas shared with Stentor and Nikolaos - all sleeping on their own pallets of course, as they would have in a barracks - was small and at that time of year, still bitterly cold in the mornings. Steam came from Alexios’ mouth as he gathered together his things, preparatory to leaving.  
His mind ran ahead to where he must go: to Alcibiades first; then directly to Stymphalos to pick up necessary items - he’d come prepared for only a few days, and hadn’t brought any armour, nor his fancy Athenian tunics which he might need - the thought made him grimace. Once equipped, he’d travel east, cutting across Arkadia, then Argos and Korinthia, before crossing the isthmus into Attika. He would make it in a day, or perhaps two, if he got held up on the road.  
He’d just done a final check to ensure he hadn’t forgotten anything when Thaletas stirred, and seeing Alexios crouching before his saddlebags, sat up blurrily. They didn’t say a word - they didn’t need to. On silent feet, Alexios came to kneel by his side. He gently took Thaletas’ head in his hands, tilting his face up towards him, his eyes tracing the angle of his cheekbones and his perfectly formed lips, as though memorising every detail; then his gaze met Thaletas’ and for a long moment it was as if nothing else existed. Thaletas slipped his hands up to Alexios’ shoulders, finding the tender place at the base of his neck where Thaletas’ lips had often lingered; he caressed the smooth, soft skin with his thumb as their lips met, kissing deeply, passionately. When they broke apart, they pressed their foreheads together with their eyes closed for a long moment, before Alexios stood. He gave Thaletas one last long, loving look, and then he was gone.

Stentor was woken by the sense of movement in the room. He was a light sleeper at the best of times, but with two more bodies that usual in the room, with two more sets of snores, he’d skimmed through sleep all night, barely closing his eyes before he opened them again. He was already tired, and he wasn’t even properly awake yet.  
He surfaced just in time to see the two men kissing, and he wrinkled his nose, pressing his eyes closed again. Gods - that was the last thing he needed to see this early in the morning, when he was so damn tired.  
When he thought Thaletas had gone back to sleep, he got out of bed. He dressed quickly, then ran a hand through his hair which was loose, enjoying being able to scratch at his scalp without creating untidiness for once. It was not often that he left his hair unbound.  
The night before, Myrrine had come into the bedroom with clean blankets for Thaletas and Alexios, and found Stentor with his arms bent at an awkward angle, trying to undo his hair. She’d gently but firmly insisted that she help him. Leading him into the main room, where Thaletas and Nikolaos were sitting at the table trading battle stories, she sat him down in front of the fire. With her nimble fingers, she undid the braid, then set to teasing out all the knots with a bone comb. When she’d finished, she said, ‘Go down to the river in the morning and wash it, lamb. When you come back, I’ll help you braid it again.’  
He’d felt a guilty pleasure at her help, at the feeling of being cared for, no matter how briefly. He reminded himself that he was capable of doing it himself, and had done so many times; perhaps it was wrong that he’d allowed her to assist? Yet that warm feeling stayed with him and he couldn’t find it in himself to push it away.  
He thought about that as he went out into the chilly morning air, striding towards the river, which would no doubt be freezing, coming down as it did from the mountains with snow on their peaks. He’d never had a mother, not until Myrrine had returned to Sparta and settled in to... well, whatever it was that she shared with Nikolaos.   
Stentor had viewed her advent with wariness. She’d reciprocated, approaching him cautiously, tentatively; sensing, he supposed, his own uncertainty. Yet over the years, without his realising she had done so, or how, she’d found her way into the very small group of people he trusted who weren’t his brothers in arms.  
He’d had so little to do with women in his life before his return to Sparta the last time, he thought, as he reached the riverbank and stripped off. Now it seemed he could not escape them.  
Kassandra came and went - he’d noticed, passing the stables, that her horse was gone, and he thought she had most likely gone off on one of her mysterious absences, and probably wouldn’t return for months. She’d been in Sparta all winter, longer than she would usually stay in the city at a stretch, though what she did with her time, he had no comprehension. He thought that he could understand her, at least a little; more than most women anyway. She was a fighter, her heart hardened by struggle, and he could relate to that.  
He lowered himself into the water with a gasp - it really was as cold as he’d expected. He dunked his head quickly, scrubbing at his scalp, before hastily getting out to dry off again.  
It reminded him of his first trip up the mountain as a boy, where they had also had to wash in thaw water. One cloak, a flimsy tent and each other was all they’d had for warmth, and Nikolaos putting them through endless drills. It had been difficult, harsh even; but they had come back down changed; harder, less likely to complain, though he at least never had. As an undersized orphan, his life had never had any softness or luxury, unlike many of the boys.   
It had been after that winter that Nikolaos had adopted him, and his life had become just a little easier. The pressure to live up to the Wolf’s expectations had certainly added a new spirit to his training - driven him onwards to greatness, he thought, and honed him into the successful general that he was.  
He pulled his tunic back on and hastened back towards home, reminding him of his original subject - the women. Yes, he thought, Kassandra he could handle; but Elene was another matter altogether.  
He sighed. There had been, a few years earlier, an expectation that he would take her to wife, and he had intended to do so because that’s what Nikolaos wanted; but after trying for months to get her to speak to him civilly, he had told Nikolaos it was hopeless. His pater hadn’t seemed surprised; by then, even he had seen she was impossible.  
Yet she still lingered. Thanks to Myrrine, she and Kassandra spent a lot of time together, though they sniped continuously with one another, and Elene was always being beaten in their training together. Stentor had noticed that recently, Kassandra made more of an effort to rein in her fiercer impulses, though he didn’t know why.   
The only time Stentor could feel confident that she wouldn’t be at the house was when Thaletas was there, because she despised him and his brother, Isadas, for old offences against her.   
Stentor had made a point of telling Elene that Thaletas would be with them for the next few days. With the blessing of the gods, he thought with a grim smile, she’d stay away, perhaps this time permanently - but that was no doubt too much to hope for.  
Nikolaos was awake and eating a bowl of something hot seated in his usual spot, the stool at the door.  
‘How was the water?’ he asked, and smiled when Stentor replied, ‘Refreshing.’  
‘Your brother’s left?’  
He nodded, the image of the kiss returning to him. He flushed slightly. ‘Before first light.’  
Nikolaos nodded and turned back to his bowl, and Stentor went inside.  
Myrrine smiled at him. ‘Are you hungry, lamb?’  
Stentor’s stomach rumbled, but he shook his head. ‘There will be a feast at the games. I can wait.’  
She nodded. ‘Then sit down in front of the fire and I’ll redo that braid.’  
He sat, enjoying the warmth at his back, and closed his eyes as she combed his hair carefully, then braided it again.  
She was just finishing when Thaletas came into the room, his short hair in wild disarray as usual, his face softened with sleep, making him look younger than he was. Myrrine told him to help himself to breakfast, so he did.  
Stentor thanked Myrrine when she had finished, and straightening up, he considered his brother’s lover for a long moment. He suddenly asked, ‘Why did you cut off your braid?’  
Thaletas looked at him in surprise. ‘Why?’  
‘Yes - I mean, you’re still a Spartan, aren’t you?’  
Stentor saw a fugitive look cross Thaletas’ face which he couldn’t read, but he answered readily enough, ‘Because I’m also a misthios. I don’t want to be mistaken for a soldier in disguise.’  
Stentor pondered that for a moment, and for the first time wondered how loyal to Sparta Thaletas still was; after all, Alexios’ loyalty had always been a muddied concept. He asked, ‘Do you still think of yourself as a Spartan?’  
Thaletas raised an eyebrow, a smile lurking on his lips. ‘Why do you ask, Stentor?’  
He shrugged, flushing a little. ‘I’m just curious.’  
‘Spartan blood is eternal,’ Thaletas said diplomatically.  
Stentor snorted. ‘You should tell Alexios that.’  
Thaletas only smiled to himself. He had said that to Alexios once, years before on Mykonos. He suddenly wondered what his lover must have thought of that at the time. Nothing terribly flattering, he decided wryly.  
Myrrine asked them both, ‘Have you seen Kassandra this morning?’  
‘Her horse is gone,’ Stentor said.  
Myrrine sighed, but made no comment.  
‘If you’ve finished eating Thaletas, we should go to the droma,’ Stentor said. ‘They’ll be starting the athletics soon.’  
‘I’m ready when you are,’ Thaletas said.

The day flew by. Stentor and Thaletas watched the athletics in the morning, taking small bets between themselves on each event, which Thaletas generally lost good-naturedly. They were joined after midday by Myrrine, who had come, she said, to watch the women’s dancing competition, though Stentor thought she’d seemed more interested in Thaletas than the dancing; when that was finished, she was swept away into a gaggle of women and not seen again that day. Nikolaos was there too, on the other side of the droma amongst the other elders; dour veterans for the most part, but even they on a festival day could be seen laughing and joking between themselves.  
The games finished at dusk, and what felt like the whole of Sparta had gathered in the covered space outside the messes for the feast honouring Zeus. The air was full of the scents of the food being served, and the roar of people talking and laughing, babies crying, and children squealing as they ran around their parents’ legs, tripping their elders.  
Stentor allowed himself a small serving of vegetables and bread, and carried his bowl to join Thaletas on a low wall, beyond the press of the crowd. Thaletas was lost in thought staring up at the stars, and Stentor asked, ‘Aren’t you going to eat?’  
‘It can wait,’ Thaletas answered absently.  
Stentor tilted his head to one side. ‘Is something wrong?’  
Thaletas tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I just never feel right after I’ve seen mater.’  
This was an idea that hadn’t struck Stentor before - that Thaletas might miss his mother. It was distinctly un-Spartan to care too much for one’s parents, especially a boy to care for his mother. Stentor frowned.  
He thought about the night that Isadora had stormed into the House of Leonidas, her face as red as a Spartan banner - it had been the kind of thing you wouldn’t forget, even if you wanted to. She’d attacked Alexios, and called him a string of awful, awful things. Stentor had watched, unaware for some time that his mouth was hanging open, expecting his brother to snap; but Alexios had just stood there, impassive, the same look on his face that he had given Stentor when he’d called him disgusting - apology in the eyes, but a set jaw that said she was wasting her words.   
As stubborn as Myrrine, Stentor thought.  
‘Before all of this, Isadora was... kind to you?’ he asked tentatively.  
Thaletas looked at him strangely. He wondered why Stentor was asking so many questions lately, but seeing that it was a sincere, rather than snide, enquiry, he decided to humour him. ‘She was.’  
‘But you went through the agoge, so she had nothing to do with your upbringing?’  
‘No,’ Thaletas said, ‘she didn’t have much to do with me as a boy; but she was still always there, cheering me on; wishing me to do my best, to be my best.’ He sighed heavily.  
Stentor saw that he had touched a nerve, and turned back to his dinner, slowly chewing a mouthful of food lost in thought. He believed that Isadora had reacted as most Spartan women would. In many ways, her outburst was appropriate. Her son was turning his back on his duty to his country by opting not to have sons himself. Still, Myrrine had not behaved that way, and she was as Spartan a woman as Stentor could imagine. Had Isadora behaved wrongly, or had Myrrine? It was a puzzle he would have to spend some time with.  
He was about to say something else when they were approached by the ephor Endius, followed by a man who Thaletas thought could only be Alcibiades.  
The ephor introduced them, saying, ‘This is Stentor, one of our finest young Generals, and adopted son of the Wolf of Sparta; and this is ex-General Thaletas, discharged after his full military term. Gentlemen, this is Alcibiades of Athens.’  
Thaletas looked at Alcibiades with open interest, and he returned the favour, but when the Athenian spoke, it was to Stentor. ‘I believe we met at the House of Leonidas, a few days ago?’  
Stentor scowled. Despite having been curious about the Athenians connection to Alexios, Stentor had been predominantly affronted by Alcibiades’ behaviour at that meeting. The Athenian had entered the house of Leonidas and assailed Nikolaos unashamedly, in his own home, demanding that Alexios be sent for as if Nikolaos was a slave. It had only been a cautionary glance from the Wolf that had stopped Stentor from demanding Alcibiades apologise for his lack of respect at the time - and the Wolf was not here now.   
He said crisply, ‘We did; and since you mention it, I did take issue with...’  
Endius interrupted him, seeing Stentor’s colour rise. Everyone knew his temper. ‘Stentor - excuse my interruption, but would you mind stepping aside with me? There’s a pressing matter I’d like to discuss with you.’  
Stentor glowered for a moment at Alcibiades, who had a look of mild amusement on his face, annoyed that he had been unable to finish what he was saying; but as an ephor, he couldn’t ignore Endius’ request. He scowled, but followed him into the crowd, leaving Thaletas alone with the Athenian.   
Alcibiades smiled his most charming smile, his eyes sweeping up and down Thaletas’ body in an insinuating fashion. ‘I must admit, I have been dying to get a good look at you; to see, as it were, the lucky man that captured that glorious force of nature we call Alexios for himself.’  
Thaletas regarded him stoically. He had become accustomed to being undressed by other men’s eyes on the Adrestia, where Phylas, one of the lieutenants, made no secret of his desires. He raised one brow. ‘I’m flattered.’  
‘He came by very early this morning, you know, to say he was going to Athens after all. I didn’t think he was going to do it; he was very reluctant.’ His eyes swept over Thaletas again, and affected a tiny sigh. ‘I can see why.’  
Thaletas had flushed slightly, but said firmly, ‘If he’s reluctant, it’s because of the bounty; he has no reason to fear being apart from me.’  
Alcibiades said hastily, ‘Of course! I only meant it as a compliment to your obvious charms.’ He sighed. ‘I was surprised when I came to Sparta, and heard that you two had caused such a scandal; but then I have never understood why you Spartans have such outdated notions about men loving other men.’ He shook his head with a confidential smile. ‘If you lived in Athens, no one would think anything of you two, you know. And if I’m being honest, I am a little jealous.’ He gave his most charming twinkle. ‘How can one see Alexios and not dream…’ He trailed off, seeing a warning glint in Thaletas’ eyes.  
He changed the subject and assumed a concerned look. ‘I must say, I’m surprised you didn’t go with him to Athens. I suppose Alexios has told you about his time there?’  
Thaletas nodded as though he had, but inwardly he grimaced. He knew virtually nothing, beyond the broad outline of what had gone on there. Thaletas had always assumed this was because there wasn’t much to tell. Looking at Alcibiades now, he realised that was a mistake.   
Alcibiades saw that he had caught Thaletas on the back foot as he’d hoped. ‘After everything with Pericles and Deimos, and all that, things got quieter, and I tried to persuade him to make his home in the city. Of course, what had happened at Kechries haunted him, and he wouldn’t hear of it.’   
Thaletas blurted, ‘I don’t think he’s mentioned that.’ He regretted it immediately.  
Alcibiades smiled like a cat who had caught a mouse. ‘Oh yes. He spent a lot of time in the port as I recall; lived there, more or less, until… it must have been the third year of the war, I suppose. I heard afterwards that something terrible had happened to a very good friend of his there.’   
He placed just the right amount of emphasis on the word “very” to make Thaletas flush. Alexios had warned Thaletas not to trust anything Alcibiades said, but he was finding this conversation very difficult. Who was this friend? Why hadn’t Alexios mentioned him? What had happened? And why was Alcibiades telling him about it?  
Alcibiades turned the topic slightly. ‘Despite that, Alexios used to visit Athens all the time, right up until the end of the war. He received all the best commissions from Demosthenes, you know.’ He paused, as if struck by a new thought, and said, ‘I always thought they were friends, right up until that bounty. Extraordinary, when you think about it. You don’t know what caused the breach?’  
Thaletas said stiffly, ‘He failed to fulfil a contract on a Spartan spy.’ He didn’t mention that the spy in question was his own brother.  
‘Is that all?’ Alcibiades asked, looking surprised. ‘Demosthenes’ reaction is extraordinary then, for such a small transgression, don’t you think? I wonder whether there might be more to it?’  
Thaletas frowned, never having thought about it before. He wondered if Alcibiades was implying that Demosthenes had been Alexios’ lover in Kechries. He was about to demand that he explain himself when Endius and Stentor returned, and he was forced to swallow it.  
The conversation naturally returned to more neutral matters; but Thaletas couldn’t help brooding on everything Alcibiades had said.  
Alcibiades watched Thaletas through his lashes as he drank his wine, seeing by the agitation in his manner that the Spartan had taken the bait.


	4. Ghosts of the Past

Athens. As Alexios crossed Attika through the Sacred Plains of Demeter in the first light of morning, he saw the city for the first time in five years. It was the same sprawl of buildings and workshops he remembered, clustered around the foot of the grandiose Parthenon. Coming from this direction, the city looked impossibly huge, as the long walls splayed out all the way down to the sea.  
He’d considered many options of how to approach his task as he’d ridden through the night, but had decided that he should go first to the Port of Piraeus, where one of his friends still lived, and would be able to give him information on where Andocides was, and may help in identifying whoever had paid him to speak up at the trial.  
During their brief chat the morning before – with Alcibiades stretched out on his bed with a terrible hangover, and Alexios perched on the window sill - Alcibiades had, in his usual roundabout fashion, made Alexios understand that if it was possible, the paymaster should also be killed. Alexios had made it clear that there were limits to that; he wouldn’t kill any major figure which would bring unwanted attention upon himself and increase that bounty; if he’d been willing to do that, he’d have killed Demosthenes years before.  
As he drew nearer to the city, Alexios noticed that there were many soldiers on the walls once more. A quick scan with Ikaros confirmed that the walls were fully manned. That gave him pause; the situation with the peace had always been tenuous – neither side had done what they had promised when the peace was made, and distrust had remained the norm; but this increase in watchfulness definitely indicated that Athens was gearing up for the resumption of hostilities.  
He pulled his hood down low over his face, entered the gate that faced to the north, and left Phobos at a stable before proceeding on foot. Keeping his head down, and deliberately walking slowly so that he remained as inconspicuous as possible, he made his way towards the southern end of the port town. It was perhaps even busier than he remembered it, merchant ships coming and going; buyers, sailors and officials busy at work; he noticed grimly that there were also many Athenian warships being refitted at the naval shipyard.  
He reached the civilian port without trouble, no one paying the slightest attention to him - just another traveller, they supposed, and a shabbily dressed one at that.  
Right at the southern end of the port, tucked against the wall but still on the water’s edge, was a double storey house - wooden but beautifully kept. There were large pots of flowers in the covered porch, and two maids outside, weaving together. They looked up at him as he approached, their genial faces welcoming.  
The elder of the two asked, ‘Can we help you, stranger?’  
Alexios smiled easily. ‘I’m looking for Euripides - is he here?’  
‘He’s up at the bouleuterion, but will be back soon.’ She stood, brushing down her knees. ‘Can I fetch you some refreshment while you wait?’  
Alexios thanked her, and she led him into the house. He’d forgotten how opulent Athenian homes could be, and was confronted all over again by the luxuriousness - rich hangings, plush carpets, gold fittings, statues. It was almost dizzying.  
She showed him into the library and provided him with wine before returning to her weaving. He drank slowly, admiring a particularly beautiful statue of nymphs and satyrs.  
He heard the sounds of arrival, and the maid saying, ‘A visitor awaits you in the library.’  
Alexios stood, and there was Euripides looking in at the door, curiosity in his face swiftly shifting to pleasure. He came in, followed by the maid. ‘Alexios. I’m surprised to see you!’  
Alexios clasped hands with the poet. ‘It’s good to see you, Euripides. You’re looking well.’ He was also looking older, Alexios thought, his dark hair turning grey.  
He took a seat opposite Alexios, and the maid poured him a drink before leaving the room.  
‘What brings you back to Athens? It’s been what, five years?’  
Alexios nodded. ‘Alcibiades sent me. You were at his trial?’  
He sighed. ‘I was. What a farce! We all knew the result before a word was spoken. He’s in Sparta then?’ When Alexios nodded, he asked, ‘How is he?’  
Alexios considered this. ‘Unhappy. Bitter; but well.’  
Euripides looked at him for a moment. ‘He’s sent you to assassinate Andocides, I suppose?’  
Alexios nodded. ‘Will it be possible?’  
‘It might be,’ he said, ‘but for Demosthenes.’  
Alexios frowned. ‘Because of the bounty on my head?’  
‘No - though that won’t make your task easier. I mean because Andocides is under his protection.’  
Alexios looked at him in surprise. ‘You’re telling me that Demosthenes is behind Alcibiades’ exile?’  
Euripides nodded once, very slowly. ‘I can’t prove it, but he’s had Andocides tucked away in his own house since the trial; and he has a motive. He canvassed for the generalship of the expedition to Sicilia before Alcibiades was appointed, and was furious when he didn’t get a place.’  
Alexios sat back in his chair, wondering if Alcibiades knew that - but of course he did; he'd even said that Demosthenes would be busy trying to get his vacated position in Sicilia. Alexios was annoyed that he had not warned him, knowing how vexed things were with Demosthenes already. He rubbed his face with both hands. If he succeeded in killing Andocides, then Demosthenes would surely refuse to accept payment on the bounty. It was an eventuality which Alexios had been careful to avoid since the damn thing had been raised.  
Euripides watched him think through the implications before he said, ‘As always in Athens, and especially with Alcibiades, there is always unseen complications.’  
Alexios frowned. ‘Only unseen because Alcibiades keeps everything to himself.’ He sighed and pushed his irritation aside. 'This is why I live in a small village, far from so-called civilisation.’  
Euripides looked wistful. ‘I envy you. As the years pass, and the war looms once more, I think often of moving away from the city, back to Argos. Perhaps one day.’  
Alexios grinned. ‘You’d miss the theatre.’  
He smiled. ‘That’s true. Have you heard I've at last taken on a protégé? And he's quite a success. He’s very clever, with a real gift for melancholy songs of love and loss. He calls himself Lykinos of Kechries...’   
He continued talking, but Alexios heard nothing for a moment; there was only a roaring sound in his ears until he found his tongue and interrupted. ‘Did you just say Lykinos of Kechries?’  
Euripides nodded, but then noticed Alexios’ expression. ‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Are you feeling alright?’  
‘I’m - I hardly know. He’s an effeminate man, somewhat younger than myself, with sandy blonde hair?’  
Euripides nodded. ‘You know him, then?’  
Alexios’ mind was reeling. Surely - surely! - it couldn’t be the same Lykinos. ‘It cannot be him. The man I used to know, who went by that name, was murdered by bandits in the first years of the war.’  
Euripides said, ‘He came to Athens five years past, he told me. He and his brother had fled their hometown. They took refuge in Korinthia first, where Lykinos built himself a reputation...’  
‘His brother!’ Alexios exclaimed, feeling as though his whole world had just done a somersault. Timotheos was alive!  
Euripides said with real concern in his voice, ‘Are you sure you’re alright? You’re as white as Parian marble.’  
Alexios waved a had to dismiss his concern, but he was horrified. ‘By Zeus!’ was all he could think to say. The brothers were alive... in Athens. All those years he’d thought them dead, mourned them; and they... Oh, he thought suddenly, darkly, they must hate him for what he’d done… Enough to want him dead...  
‘How did you come to meet Lykinos?’ Alexios asked suddenly.  
Euripides narrowed his eyes, wondering why he was asking; but the answer suggested new connections to him. ‘Through Demosthenes.’  
Alexios’ face tightened. ‘Of course. Do you know how they’re connected?’  
Euripides nodded. ‘The father served under Demosthenes before the war, long before Demosthenes was a general. I understand there was a strong bond between the two men. Later, he took the brother, Timotheos, under his wing. I understand that Demosthenes got him out of some kind of military scrape; Lykinos couldn't tell me the details. When the brothers came to the city, they naturally sought out Demosthenes’ patronage, and he sent Lykinos in my direction.’  
Alexios nodded slowly. ‘I see.’ He rubbed his face with both hands. It was all falling into place.  
Euripides asked, ‘How do you know them?’  
Alexios grimaced. ‘It’s not my finest hour; but the gods know I was young and stupid.’  
As succinctly as he could, he told Euripides what had happened with the brothers: the relationship with Timotheos, the resentment of Lykinos; the enormous debt owed by their father that none of them could afford; how Alexios had made a deal with Diagoras the bandit chief to kill the Monger publicly; about the day that Brasidas had persuaded Alexios to assassinate the Monger underground to avoid a riot; Alexios agreeing, stupidly thinking he could get to the brothers before Diagoras found out; and finally, the discovery of the destroyed house in Kechries, the brothers gone, only blood and destruction left behind.  
Euripides’ mouth had dropped open. For a long moment after Alexios stopped speaking, he just stared at the misthios. He’d always been clever, and when he spoke, Alexios saw that he had joined the same dots he had.   
‘You’re thinking, because of the connection between them and Demosthenes, that they have something to do with the bounty on your head?’  
Alexios nodded grimly. ‘The brothers arrived in Athens the same year that Demosthenes brought me that contract to track down the Spartan spy. Even if Demosthenes started off wanting me to take the job, his behaviour when I failed to complete it was very strong. I always wondered if there was more to it. The size of that bounty was enough to suggest another motive, even without what happened on Lemnos.’  
Euripides raised a brow in enquiry. ‘I haven’t heard about that?’  
Euripides was surprised when Alexios smiled then, almost shyly. ‘I suppose you’ve heard there’s someone who has become… very important to me?’ When Euripides shook his head, Alexios said, ‘His name is Thaletas.’  
Euripides smiled. ‘I see.’  
The smile faded from Alexios' face. ‘Demosthenes did his best to use Thaletas against me.’ He then told Euripides about the snatching of his lover, and all that had occurred at the stronghold, before continuing, ‘I suppose it was never intended that Thaletas should live; he was bait to lure me into the stronghold where I was supposed to be killed. Demosthenes underestimated me.’ He added dryly, ‘He should have known better.’  
Euripides was frowning, thinking all this over; before he could comment though, Alexios stood and said, ‘I have to know for sure. I need proof that the brothers are involved.’  
He asked, ‘What will you do if you find proof? Do you intend to harm them?  
Alexios considered this for a moment. ‘I don’t know. Just tell me where they live.’  
The poet knew Alexios would find the house, with or without his help, even if he had to go door to door through all of Athens, so he reluctantly said, ‘The far end of the Piraeus promontory - near the open space. It’s a big house with its own gardens; but Alexios, I urge you not to hurt them. They are good men, even if they have raised that bounty.’  
Alexios said, ‘You're soft-hearted, Euripides.’ Then he moved towards the door, saying, ‘I’ll come back here when I’m done.’

The house when he found it was substantial - three storeys, if you counted the covered roof, with formal gardens on three sides, complete with two large pergolas covered in vines, one even containing a library, and multiple planters and pots full of pink flowers. Alexios, from where he crouched in the shrubs of the open space which ran right up to the garden wall, wondered how they could afford the house - Euripides had not said they were wealthy, but perhaps Lykinos and his clever melancholy tunes had made them a fortune.  
Ikaros scanned the house, and seeing that there was no one there, Alexios slipped up to the second storey, and walked in through an open door.  
What he was looking for was something that tied the brothers to the bounty. He knew that if they had put up the money, there would be a written agreement between them and Demosthenes that confirmed it.  
He found a room which was almost certainly Lykinos’ study - there were scrolls of poetry and half written sheets of papyrus everywhere, chests with more scrolls shoved into them in a haphazard way. It was total chaos.  
Alexios picked up the sheet that was at the top of the nearest pile on the desk – a work in progress - and glanced over it:

His coming is as the ravening wolf,  
pelt glossy and black  
death follows at his heels  
His dagger is a grin  
that no armour can turn aside...

By the gods, he thought, wrinkling his nose, and throwing the papyrus down again. Who would pay for such dross? Even Thespis’ play about the 300 was better - and that was really saying something!  
He continued searching, knowing that the agreement, if it existed, would be with Timotheos’ documents. He had always been the one who took care of everyday business.  
He found what he was looking for at the opposite end of the hallway - a small room, sparsely furnished with only a table, a seat and a single red wall hanging. The room smelt of Timotheos - causing Alexios to grit his teeth against the memories that were jostling at the edge of his mind.  
Focus, he scolded himself. Those memories are of people who no longer exist - neither me, nor Timotheos are who we once were.  
On the desk was a small open chest, stacked neatly with about twenty tablets. Carefully, Alexios began reading them; he was more than halfway through the stack when he found what he was looking for: A letter from Demosthenes which left no doubt that Timotheos had approached the general when the brothers had first come to Athens; the tablet was Demosthenes’ reply, but Alexios could fill in the blanks. The general had agreed to raise the bounty in his own name if Timotheos and Lykinos provided the reward. Timotheos had been afraid to do it in his name because he knew and feared that Alexios would come looking for him if he found out.  
Alexios climbed back out of the house, determined to confront Timotheos; all he had to do was wait for him to come home. 

He climbed onto the roof of a nearby temple where no one could disturb him, set Ikaros to watching the house, and allowed himself to fall into a meditation.  
He knew that confronting Timotheos would almost certainly end in bloodshed. For what had happened to Thaletas, it was no more than he deserved... and yet he knew: if the brothers hated him, it was understandable, even expected.  
He had failed everyone, he thought, as he drifted into sleep, right up until he had met Thaletas back in Sparta. Since then, he had held to his promises, made smarter decisions. Thaletas had changed him, there was no doubt, his lover’s devotion and calm way of looking at problems had softened Alexios’ harder edges… his mind wandered as he drifted asleep.... remembering Thaletas’ soft edges, his warmth… his tender hand as it drifted over Alexios’ chest, caressing his skin... the tickle of his breath against Alexios’ neck... the arch of his spine as he cried out in pleasure... 

Ikaros swooped low and screeched, startling Alexios awake. He sprang to his feet, then remembering where he was, relaxed a little. He was awkwardly hard, and adjusted himself with a regretful sigh as the last, warm shreds of the dream faded away.  
He jumped down off the temple, and returned to the shrubs near the house. A party had begun, well-dressed people arriving, many already gathered together under the pergolas lit by purple lanterns; musicians were playing cheerful tunes; wine flowed copiously; laughter echoed out into the open space.  
Alexios saw Lykinos first. He had aged, of course, and was no longer the slender young man he had been. He had matured into a handsome, sturdy looking man, his beard trimmed, his hair still worn long, just as it had been. He was wearing a long, highly embroidered tunic. If Alexios hadn’t known it was him, he could easily have passed him in the street without recognising him.  
The same could not be said of Timotheos when he appeared. It was growing late as he emerged alone onto the roof. His was still thin, his hair the same shaggy mess it had always been, gleaming silver under the moonlight. He was wearing a simple, even severe tunic in a dark colour, and cradled an amphora in one arm. He was swaying a little.  
Alexios took his chance, and climbing up the outside of the building unseen, dropped onto the rooftop behind Timotheos.


	5. Reunions

On the same morning that Alexios reached Athens, Thaletas woke up groggily in the sleeping chamber adjoining the House of Leonidas, and his first thought was the same one that had kept him awake until well after the middle of the night, despite his own tiredness: What in Hades had gone on in Athens and Kechries back at the beginning of the war?  
He’d tried to push his jealousy aside, telling himself that Alcibiades lied and that he was worrying unnecessarily. Thaletas had been clear headed enough to see that the Athenian had probably intended to sow the seeds of doubt into his and Alexios’ relationship, and he had at first been determined not to believe a word he said.   
Yet here he was, blurry with tiredness and teeming with jealousy nonetheless.  
Thaletas sat up in bed, and ran his hands through his hair and over his face, trying to shake off his tiredness. He felt awful.  
One thing had come from his sleepless night though. He was determined to go after Alexios to Athens.   
Stentor whispered, ‘You didn’t sleep well.’  
He shook his head as he began gathering his things together.   
‘It was something Alcibiades said, wasn’t it?’ Stentor had noticed the night before that something had changed when he’d returned to Thaletas after having a largely pointless discussion imposed upon him by Endius, which could have waited until the following day. Stentor hadn’t taken Endius for a time waster before, and had resented it. When they’d returned to his brother’s lover and the Athenian, he’d found Alcibiades looking smug, and Thaletas brooding. He realised that Alcibiades had wanted to speak to Thaletas without him, so the discussion had literally been pointless. He resented Endius all the more – and Alcibiades along with him. It had raised an unexpected feeling in him – protectiveness towards Thaletas. He’d scowled at the very thought.  
Thaletas looked at him for a moment, surprised that he’d noticed. He really was a dark horse. ‘Yes and no,’ he said. ‘I’m concerned that Alexios is going to get caught up into some old drama he has in Athens. Alcibiades mentioned something about it last night. With that bounty looming, he really can’t afford to find a rat’s nest this time.’   
Stentor and he had discussed Alexios’ greatest fault more than once – a tendency to take a job hunting one rat, only to find himself caught up in flushing out a whole nest of them. ‘That’s always a worry with him,’ he agreed, his eyes slightly narrowed. ‘You’re going after him, then?’  
Thaletas nodded but pointedly said, ‘I should have gone with him yesterday, but I wanted to see mater.’   
Stentor considered Thaletas for a long moment as he set about packing the saddle bags by the bed, preparing to leave. He didn’t think he should dig into whatever it was Alexios allegedly had going on in Athens, or had had, in his past. Thaletas had made it clear enough he wasn’t going to talk about it, but he could sense the other man’s anger. He said carefully, ‘Alcibiades is notorious for making trouble just for the sake of it. He’s not to be trusted, on any subject.’ He added in a mutter to himself, ‘If only the rest of the council would take my word on that, mind you.’  
Thaletas didn’t hear this last comment, but said, ‘Alcibiades has no reason to lie; after all, they’re friends.’  
Stentor began to settle back into bed as he said, ‘Alexios said they weren’t. Alcibiades tried to seduce him and was rejected more than once. Sounds like motive for making trouble to me; but what do I know? Have a safe journey.’  
Thaletas stood, wanting to argue with him purely because he was angry with Alexios; but he restrained himself.   
‘Thanks,’ he said curtly.

The sun was setting late that day when Thaletas reached the walls of Athens. He had ridden as though pursued by the Furies; he didn’t stop to look at the landscape, he didn’t pause once on the road. His anger had cooled a little out of pure fatigue; but he was still fired up to tell Alexios a thing or two about honesty.  
He hadn’t imagined the sheer size of the city, and for a moment of sheer exhaustion, he felt his confidence leach away. How would he find Alexios in this maze of buildings, amid the crowds unlike anything he’d seen before?  
He rode in the first gate he came to, careful to not eyeball the soldiers on the walls out of habit – he had already noted in a glance that there were four archers and a marksman paying little attention to anything other than the far horizon - and dismounted at a stable. He was just negotiating a fee with the stable owner for the care of his mare when Ikaros swooped low, and landed on a fence in front of him.  
The eagle caused quite a stir; the people scattered around him, before moving a little closer with curiosity. Many of them seemed awestruck, as though this was a visitation by Zeus himself, and Ikaros did nothing to dispel this impression as he glanced at them haughtily.  
Thaletas smiled, momentarily forgetting his feelings. ‘Hello, Ikaros.’  
The eagle peeped twice, bobbed his head, then rose to hover above Thaletas for a moment, waiting for him to follow.  
They travelled across the city, through winding back streets and suburbs, before passing between the long walls down to the port. They passed the temple which dominated the port, and right to the end of the promontory, before Ikaros swooped down to in a small cemetery, landing on one of the memorial stones.  
Thaletas reached out to scratch Ikaros’ neck in the way he liked. The eagle peeped his thanks, looked significantly towards a large house beyond, and then flew back up into the sky.  
Thaletas moved closer through the bushes, and surveyed the house. At first he couldn’t see Alexios, but after a moment, he spotted him as he dropped onto the rooftop.  
Thaletas wasn’t shy - he hoisted himself up the outside of the building. He was on the rooftop below the covered terrace when he heard Timotheos say, ‘I knew you’d come one day, Alexios.’  
There was something in the man’s voice as he said Alexios’ name that made Thaletas freeze where he was. He heard the longing in it, the… love. He flushed with a surge of jealousy, but with an iron will, stopped himself from either fleeing, or leaping onto the rooftop to kill the man who dared to speak to his lover in such a tone. He was determined to listen to whatever was said.

Alexios didn’t reply immediately. Now that he was on the roof, he was less certain of himself. The guilt of what he had caused to happen to the brothers was gnawing at the edges of his resolve; if they hated him, he deserved it.  
He said, ‘I know that you won’t believe me, but I’m terribly sorry for what happened. I thought I could get to you both in time, get to Diagoras first.’  
Timotheos slowly shook his head. ‘You don’t even know what happened to us, didn’t even look for us.’  
He said in a low, urgent voice, ‘That’s not true! I killed Diagoras and every one of his men. I searched every bandit camp in Arkadia and Korinthia. There was no trace of you. I swear!’  
He was still shaking his head, as though Alexios hadn’t spoken. ‘They tortured me until I thought I was dead; as did they. I woke up to rain on my face where I’d been dumped on a pile of dead bodies. As I lay there, there was only one thought in my head: I’d loved you, and thought I was loved - but you betrayed us.’ The despair in his voice was hard enough to hear, but under that was something else – the memory of love, the ultimate source of his hatred. The plaintive longing was almost unbearable to hear. Alexios wanted to tell him to shut up.   
Timotheos turned then. By the light of the torches, Alexios saw the face that was at once familiar, but at the same time totally changed. He didn’t look angry or sad, but hard, as though he had faced Hades himself and prevailed. His voice hardened as he curled his lip and said, ‘You betrayed us for your own glory, and for the love of a Spartan.’  
Alexios was momentarily confused. ‘What are you talking about?’  
He smiled the bitter smile again. ‘Every hetaera in Korinthia saw the two of you together. You and Brasidas,’ he hissed the name with such venom, Alexios thought Brasidas’ shade in the afterlife must have shuddered.  
He hadn’t anticipated these recriminations, and he found himself on the back foot. He said almost pleadingly, ‘You’re wrong, very wrong. Brasidas was only ever a friend.’ He saw that Timotheos didn’t believe him, but rushed on anyway, knowing that anything he said would sound completely inadequate. ‘I made a terrible mistake, but I never betrayed you. You know I loved you. By the Gods, Timotheos, I mourned you for years!’  
A bitter smile quirked the corner of his mouth. ‘Years?’ He shook his head again. ‘You think I don’t know?’ This threw Alexios again, and he frowned. Timotheos shook his head slowly. ‘The rebellion on the Silver Islands wasn’t that long afterwards, Alexios. One summer and one winter, doesn’t, by any reckoning, add up to years.’  
Alexios scowled. ‘What was I supposed to do? Sit and cry forever for what couldn’t be changed? It doesn’t matter what I was doing; I still mourned you. I thought you were both dead.’  
‘I am dead,’ Timotheos said flatly. ‘The man I was doesn’t exist anymore, and that’s because of you.’ He half turned then, as though he’d heard something at a distance; he listened for a moment before he faced Alexios again squarely. ‘If you’ve come to kill me - do it.’  
Alexios said coolly, ‘Retract the bounty, and that won’t be necessary.’  
Timotheos suddenly lunged towards Alexios with a small dagger. Alexios and he had sparred often enough in the past that Alexios and saw it coming from his tell; he dodged aside, and caught Timotheos into a headlock, the spear to his throat. The dagger clattered to the ground.   
Alexios for a wild moment felt strangely confused; it was so strange to have this man, so familiar to him, the scent that reminded him of moments of pure love, held against himself again… He gritted his teeth, a part of his brain telling him to finish it, but he just... couldn’t make that final thrust.  
It was only moments, but it felt like an eternity before he heard someone coming up the stairs.  
‘Stop, Alexios,’ Lykinos said, when he emerged onto the roof. He sounded weary. ‘It won’t change anything, killing him. I told him that already, when he raised that bounty on you. Your death won’t undo what happened; but he hasn’t changed - he still doesn’t listen to me.’  
Alexios shifted from one foot to the other, Timotheos struggling a little. He pressed the spear against his throat, and he stopped.  
‘For example,’ Lykinos continued, walking over to where the amphora of wine that Timotheos had been drinking stood, and filled the beaker he was carrying. ‘I told him the bounty was far more likely to get us killed than you.’ Timotheos looked at him resentfully, but Lykinos just raised an eyebrow. ‘I did say that, and here we are.’  
Alexios said, ‘As I said to Timotheos already: retract the bounty, and we can all get on with our lives.’  
Timotheos sneered. ‘No chance.’  
Lykinos sighed. ‘Timotheos, can’t you see there’s an opportunity here?’  
Alexios and Timotheos both looked at him, the spear still glowing at Timotheos’ neck.  
Timotheos said, ‘What are you talking about?’  
‘You know – what we discussed yesterday.’  
He was aghast at his younger brother. ‘You can’t be serious?’  
Lykinos just raised his brow again; he had certainly gained in confidence, Alexios thought. ‘He’s capable – and if it gets him killed, well.’ He shrugged.  
Timotheos reluctantly said, ‘You might be right.’  
Alexios felt his ex-lover relax against him, and dropped the spear, pushing Timotheos away from himself so that he stumbled a little.   
Lykinos said, ‘If you do this job for us Alexios, we’ll retract the bounty.’  
Alexios asked, ‘What job?’  
Thaletas had listened with a mixture of emotions to the discussion. He’d always known that Alexios had a past, but that didn't stop him being upset by it. He considered going away again without even announcing he was there; but when he heard the brothers offer Alexios the job, he pushed his feelings aside as best he could, and climbed the wall to join them.  
Alexios saw him drop onto the roof with a start; the two brothers just looked at him as though nothing could surprise them anymore.  
‘What are you doing here?’ Alexios asked in a low voice. ‘Is there trouble at home?’  
Thaletas shook his head, though the grim set of his jaw did not give Alexios any comfort. ‘I’ll explain later.’  
‘You’re Thaletas, I suppose?’ Timotheos demanded.  
Thaletas remained facing Alexios, looking at Timotheos out of the corner of his eye. Alexios could see the glitter of rage in his eyes with alarm. ‘Yes,’ he replied, briefly, tersely. Then he looked at Lykinos and asked, ‘What is this job you want us to do?’  
Timotheos said, ‘We’re hiring one mercenary, not two.’  
‘We’re a package deal,’ Thaletas said, the line of his jaw setting as he turned to face him at last, his eyes threatening. He was of a smaller build than Alexios, but there could be no doubt that he was dangerous. Timotheos took an involuntary step backwards.  
Lykinos raised an eyebrow with a slight smile of amusement, but said seriously enough, ‘There’s a man in Korinthia named Hermokrates. He’s the leader of the pro-Athenian faction there. I want him brought to us - alive.’  
Alexios looked at Thaletas for a moment though he didn’t look back.   
‘Why do you want him?’ Thaletas demanded.  
‘He did us harm in the past,’ Lykinos said flatly.   
Thaletas turned to Alexios for the barest instant and saw that he intended to take the job, before looking back to Lykinos. ‘Who is he?’  
Lykinos shook his head. ‘He’s a leader in Korinthia. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about him. Will you take the job?’  
Before Thaletas could insist on more information, Alexios said, ‘If you swear that you’ll retract the bounty, then yes we will.’  
The brothers glanced at each other, and then Timotheos said, ‘We swear.’

Once they were out of earshot of the house – though it was an unnecessary precaution with all the music and voices from the symposium - Thaletas said abruptly, ‘There’s more to this than they’re saying. You should have insisted they tell us everything.’ He and Alexios had always been different in their approaches to their work. Alexios was forever going into things half-cocked; he never got all the information. Sometimes Thaletas thought that this was most likely because he didn’t want to think about the moral implications of what he was doing; but it also made it much more dangerous.  
Alexios was following slightly behind him, and he grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him backwards into his arms, and Thaletas pulled away.   
Alexios frowned. He knew that Thaletas had a jealous streak, and it had already occurred to him that he had heard far too much on the rooftop. ‘What is it?’ he asked.  
Thaletas was irritated that he was reacting the way he was; hearing Alexios declare that he had loved Timotheos had solidified his rage. ‘I came here because I was told you had lived with a man at Kechries. I heard what you said on the rooftop.’  
Alexios remained calm, but irritation seeped into his voice. ‘And?’  
Thaletas walked a few paces away. His nostrils flared angrily. ‘You said you loved him, mourned him.’  
Alexios said, ‘And so I did – a long time ago, before I even knew you existed.’  
‘But it wasn’t a long time ago when we met.’ Thaletas rasped. He didn’t want to be upset by the idea, but when he remembered that afternoon on Delos, talking about the friends they’d lost to the war, he now knew that Alexios must have been talking about Timotheos. It was one thing to know in the abstract that your lover had loved someone before you, it was another thing when that past had a face, a body – one that Alexios had lain with, loved and mourned. The thought made him feel sick to his stomach.  
Alexios saw what he was thinking. He said, ‘No – it wasn’t an old wound when I met you, but that doesn’t change my love for you, Thaletas.’  
Thaletas looked up at him, their eyes meeting for a long moment. He set his jaw stubbornly. ‘You only involved yourself with me because you thought Timotheos was dead!’  
Alexios made an exasperated sound, and sitting down on a low wall, he looked up at the sky, as though asking the gods for patience. ‘That’s not true,’ he said resolutely, keeping a grip on his own temper, resentfully feeling as though he had been repeating himself all night.  
‘What about Demosthenes?’  
Alexios was really thrown by this. ‘Are you really suggesting Demosthenes was my lover?’  
‘What about Brasidas?’ Thaletas demanded.  
Alexios glared at him. For a moment, anger ticked in the muscle of his jaw. He said between clenched teeth, ‘No, Thaletas. Brasidas was my closest friend. I was devastated when he died. I’m still devastated, as you know very well.’  
Thaletas saw he had gone too far, but he glared back at him. ‘How am I supposed to know what to believe? You said you’d only ever loved me, and that was a lie!’  
Alexios growled angrily and stood, moving towards him with purpose. Thaletas wasn’t sure what he intended to do, but he challenged him with his eyes. If he wanted to fight, Thaletas was more than ready. It was only as Alexios drew very close to him that he saw not only anger in his face, but desire.   
Alexios grabbed him, pulling him hard up against himself, and with delicious brutality, took his mouth with his, ravishing him, demanding he surrender. In the pit of his stomach, Thaletas felt the fire grow, the hungry, answering desire swelling up in him; but he did everything in his power to resist, and in his own way, demand that Alexios earn it. He broke away, took an open-handed swing at Alexios, who ducked, and grappled with him, catching him again. Thaletas lurched suddenly, breaking the hold, and they both fell to the ground in an undignified scuffle.   
They were wrestling as they had many times in training, but now it was a battle of will against will, anger against anger, neither wishing to be the one to give in. They rolled over and over, as one hold was broken and one of them was thrown, then another hold taken… The dance of attack, withdrawal, attack…. They had at some point in the struggle entered some enclosed space, both oblivious to that, with eyes only for their opponent, feeling the mad rush of adrenaline, and the roaring desire for the other…   
They began to tire, and at last, Thaletas pinned Alexios to the ground, victorious; they were both breathing heavily, their gaze catching and holding. Thaletas looking at Alexios with the kind of look that could melt rock, and Alexios returned it as he rasped, ‘I yield….’ Thaletas took Alexios’ mouth so tenderly, Alexios could almost have sobbed, feeling that in that moment, all was transformed; whatever they had been before, whatever was left of their anger, gave way to pure uncontrollable desire; their limbs entangled, their clothes discarded, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue, body to body… overwhelmed by lust; skin slick with sweat, the drive for dominance forgotten in the purity of their desire for one another, lost in the heated journey towards release, in the blazing inferno that was their love.

A little later, laying in a pile of hay in a corner of the warehouse they found themselves in, lit by a single small lamp, Thaletas was blissfully dozy. He was deeply satisfied, more perhaps than he had ever been before, knowing that he had made Alexios his in a way he never had – that no one ever had, for that matter; he’d felt that in the response Alexios had had to that moment, had seen the wonder of it in his eyes. The memory made his stomach tighten, and his manhood begin to rise again. He said softly, ‘I’m sorry, Alexios. It was hard for me to listen to all of that. I didn’t know what to think.’  
Alexios was holding Thaletas close against himself, the fire in his belly quieted but by no means gone. He had felt it too - something inside himself had opened up, tenderness had poured out of himself in a vast, fathomless wave. He'd never felt like this before, never felt so close to anyone, and he had felt close to Thaletas before.   
He said warmly, ‘Thaletas – the years with you have been a revelation, you know that. Whatever came before you, it doesn’t matter. None of it meant a damn thing. You've taught me to love – really love.’ He shifted onto his side so that he could look down into his eyes. He smiled tenderly, ‘As you once said to me, I love you, and only you – even when you’re being a stupid idiot.’  
Thaletas chuckled, his eyes gleaming, and Alexios dropped his head, kissing the smile away.


	6. Andocides

The next morning Alexios woke first. He was curled around Thaletas in an upstairs room of Euripides’ house. He shifted nearer, so that his face was nestled into the back of his neck, breathing deeply of the warm, heady scent of his skin.  
It had been the middle hour of the night before they’d got back, and most of the household were already abed; only a sleepy maid had been waiting up for them. She had shown them upstairs with only a curious glance at the unexpected extra guest.  
The house was quiet downstairs. Alexios knew Euripides was usually up at dawn, but to judge by the light coming through the door out to the balcony, it was already mid-morning. The quiet poet had always been an understanding host.  
Thaletas stirred, sighed, and shifted backwards, snuggling further into the curve of Alexios’ body. Still half asleep, he said with a smile in his voice, ‘I forgot you were here.’  
Alexios didn’t reply. He kissed the tender skin of his neck, his hands wandering. Thaletas chuckled; the kind of warm, loving chuckle that went straight to Alexios’ manhood. He growled in his throat, and Thaletas said teasingly, ‘Behave yourself. We’re guests here.’  
Alexios didn’t stop, but instead took his earlobe between his lips as he ran a hand over Thaletas’ ribs, feeling his skin break out in goosebumps. Alexios gave his own chuckle. ‘This is Athens, Spartan. I’ll behave as I please.’

‘You didn’t tell me last night why you came after me?’ Alexios said. He was splayed back on the bed, totally spent, his eyes closed and a lazy, happy smile on his lips.   
Thaletas, who was sitting with his back against the wall, admired the view. In a distracted voice, he said, ‘Because of Alcibiades.’  
Alexios opened one eye and looked up at him with an arched brow. ‘You met him?’  
‘He had Endius introduce us. He’s very... forward.’  
Alexios opened the other eye. ‘Did he try to lure you into his bed?’  
Thaletas said wryly, ‘I think he was more interested in making me worry about who you were luring into your bed behind my back.’  
He sighed. ‘He would. He likes to insinuate that there’s something going on when there isn’t.’ He cocked his head a little. ‘That’s not why you’re here, though? To check up on me?’  
Thaletas sighed. ‘Partly,’ he admitted as he wriggled down and snuggled into his shoulder.   
Dryly, he asked, ‘I suppose it was Alcibiades who suggested I’d taken Demosthenes as a lover?’  
Thaletas looked a little uncomfortable. ‘He didn’t put it in those words. I think he was actually talking about Timotheos, in hindsight.’  
Alexios frowned. ‘He mentioned Timotheos?’  
Thaletas reluctantly said, ‘Not by name, no. He told me that you’d spent a long time in Kechries with a “friend” at the start of the war; that something awful happened to that friend; but then he leapt onto the subject of what grounds Demosthenes could possibly have for raising such a huge bounty. I thought he was implying that the two were connected.’  
‘As they are, just not in the way you thought.’ He was silent for a long moment before he said angrily, ‘The fact that Alcibiades knew Timotheos was behind the bounty, but didn’t tell me…’ He shook his head.  
Thaletas sighed but changed the subject. ‘I also decided to come after you because I knew with old ties here, you’d end up taking other jobs – which I was right to worry about. You could say I came to keep you focussed on the task at hand.’  
Alexios chuckled. ‘It’s the middle of the day, and I’m still in bed. Do you call this focussed?’  
Thaletas acknowledged this with a snort. ‘Our work is better done at night, as someone once told me.’  
Alexios grinned. ‘That’s true; but then I’d accept any excuse to stay here with you for as long as I can.’   
Thaletas ignored the suggestive glint in Alexios’ eye, and said, ‘Speaking of work; have you discovered where Andocides is?’  
‘In Demosthenes’ house, in the northern part of the city.’  
Thaletas propped his head up on an elbow, frowning. ‘Do you think that links the General to Alcibiades’ exile?’  
‘Euripides thinks so. He’s certainly involved; responsibility is more likely to be assigned to a group of people though, knowing these politicians; but it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to lay a finger on Demosthenes.’  
Thaletas nodded, looking thoughtful. ‘Have you checked the house yet?’  
He shook his head. ‘I was going to do that today.’  
‘Then we’ll do that tonight,’ he said, chewing his lip in thought. ‘I wonder if we shouldn’t go to Korinthia tomorrow. It’s worrying me that we know next to nothing about this Hermokrates; but if we get him back here alive first, then at least that bounty will be cleared.’  
Alexios said dubiously, ‘If the brothers hold to their oath.’  
Thaletas set his mouth in a thin line. ‘They must know that if they don’t, I’ll kill them.’  
‘I’d prefer if we didn’t have to, though. I don’t think Demosthenes would take it kindly.’  
Thaletas didn’t comment. He understood Alexios’ reasons; and they had nothing to do with the Athenian General. He felt a jealous pang at the thought that Alexios still had even a shred of loyalty towards those two, even though he admired his loyalty in a general sense. It hardened Thaletas’ resolve though: if either of the brothers gave him the slightest cause, he wouldn’t think twice about ending them.

That night, they went into the city, and sought out Demosthenes’ house. It was a substantial place on a prominent hill. Alexios remembered having been there before. It had once been Hermippo’s residence - the cultist he had killed one summer, in the midst of a twelve-man melee on the steps of the Temple of Hephaistos.  
The house was heavily guarded. Ikaros spied Andocides asleep in an upstairs room and identified ten soldiers, all wearing the dark tunics that both the mercenaries remembered from Lemnos. Alexios saw Thaletas’ face set when he noticed, and he rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He gave a small smile back.  
Alexios could feel his heart rate increasing; tension, excitement - whatever it was. ‘Let’s just do it now,’ he whispered with his mouth close to Thaletas’ ear.  
Thaletas considered this. He was naturally more cautious than Alexios, but he knew that if Demosthenes knew of their presence in the city already - which was likely, after the confrontation with the brothers - then they needed to get out of Athens. He nodded.  
They had worked together many times, and they function like a beautifully synchronised, well-oiled machine. Alexios watched Thaletas work with pride and something amounting to awe. He had become at least equal to, probably better than, Alexios. He was absolutely silent, no movement wasted, each strike precisely placed for a silent kill - or for swift unconsciousness, as was the case that night.  
Once they were inside the house, Thaletas indicated that Alexios should go up while he remained downstairs, watching for anyone coming. Alexios nodded, and went upstairs into the bedchamber.  
Andocides sat up as Alexios came into the room. He was a short, solid man, his face a picture of horror.  
‘Help!’ he cried out as he pushed himself backwards against the wall, his knees up protectively.  
Alexios shook his head. ‘The guards can’t hear you,’ he said quietly. ‘I have some questions that you will answer.’  
When Andocides spoke, his voice shook. ‘Who are you?’  
Alexios said calmly, ‘That’s not important. Did Demosthenes pay you to bear false witness against Alcibiades?’  
‘It wasn’t false!' he said forcefully. 'Alcibiades paid my friends to damage the Herms - I was there when the money changed hands, just as I said at the trial. Demosthenes is protecting me because he knows that Alcibiades will seek vengeance.’ His lip began to quiver again. ‘Are you going to kill me?’  
Alexios ignored the question. ‘Why would Alcibiades have your friends damage the Herms? He had nothing to gain by it.’  
‘Because Alcibiades hates Nicias, and he was bitter that he'd taken over control of the expedition to Sicilia. He was jealous and wanted it stopped.’  
Alexios frowned. ‘Why does he hate Nicias?’  
‘Because Nicias was sent to broker the peace with Sparta, of course. Alcibiades was passed over because he was considered too young. His grandfather had been the ambassador to Sparta you see, and Alcibiades considered it an affront that Nicias was sent in the place which he thought was his by right.’  
Alexios considered this. Of course, both versions of events were possible; but Alcibiades was a known liar, while this man assumed he was facing death, and was still swearing to the truth of his testimony. What he said of Alcibiades rung unfortunately true. He had mentioned his grandfather, too.  
Alexios had a sudden thought. ‘Have you heard of Hermokrates of Korinthia?’  
‘The leader of Korinthia? Of course. Everyone knows of him.’  
‘They do?’  
‘Well – here in Athens they do, anyway. He’s very wealthy. He runs legitimate businesses, but he’s best known as a smuggler - and for his infamous brother. They used to call him the Monger.’  
Alexios grimaced, but said, ‘I see. Hermokrates is pro-Athenian, isn’t he?’  
He said wryly, ‘So they say, but from what I’ve seen, he’s more pro-Hermokrates.’  
Alexios nodded, then stood. ‘Thank you. Tell Demosthenes if he wants to keep you alive, he should get you out of Athens.’  
He looked stunned. ‘You’re not going to kill me?’  
‘Not today.’  
‘Then take me with you – to Korinthia.’ Alexios just stared at him. ‘I can introduce you to Hermokrates. I have to get out of the city, and I’ll pay you to escort me.’  
Alexios considered this request. If he got Andocides out of Athens, then Alcibiades would have no way of knowing he was still alive – so he might still be able to collect his fee. Plus, the introduction to Hermokrates could be useful.   
‘Alright,’ he said. ‘Tell Demosthenes that you’re leaving; I don’t want to be pursued. Then meet me at sunrise at the cemetery north of the city.’  
Alexios went back downstairs, nodded to Thaletas and they went out the way they’d come.  
‘Did you kill him?’ Thaletas asked.  
‘No. He’s innocent. Alcibiades paid his friends to vandalise the Herms.’  
Thaletas shook his head. ‘So - what are you going to tell Alcibiades?’  
Alexios shrugged. ‘That I killed him. I’ve agreed to take Andocides to Korinthia – Alcibiades will have no way of knowing he’s still alive. He’s going to pay us for the service.’  
‘What?’ Thaletas said, alarmed. ‘Why did you agree to that?’  
Alexios said, ‘Because Andocides can introduce us to Hermokrates. He had some useful information on the man.’  
Thaletas looked worried. ‘What if Alcibiades finds out? Won’t he be angry?’  
‘Maybe, but he’s used to disappointment when it comes to my services. He once had me take a package to an Athenian general, a cast of his dick - not that I knew that - addressed to the general’s wife. He refused to explain what he was really up to - not the first time that happened, either. He told me to tell the general that it had come from some political enemy of his. I delivered it, but I told him it was from Alcibiades himself.’ He chuckled. ‘He was furious. I heard later that the General made things very uncomfortable for him back in Athens. It never stopped him from coming back for more.’ He shrugged. ‘He enjoys seeing how much he can get away with. In a way, he likes it when you figure out what he’s up to. It’s all a game to him - no matter how serious the consequences might be for those involved.’  
Thaletas frowned. ‘I’ll never understand Athenians.’  
‘Good,’ Alexios said, and kissed his forehead.  
‘What did Andocides tell you about Hermokrates?’  
He began telling Thaletas what he’d been told about the Monger’s brother, but within a few words, Thaletas asked, ‘The Monger?’  
‘He was a cultist; Brasidas and I brought him down together. It was his death that led to the brothers’ capture and torture by the....’  
Thaletas interrupted him. ‘Stop, stop - you’re going to have to tell me the whole story or I won’t be able to follow any of the connections you’re about to suggest to me.’  
Alexios looked at him for a moment. ‘Are you sure?’  
Thaletas looked grim, but said, ‘I’m sure.’

By the time Alexios had finished telling the story all over again, Thaletas had forgotten that he’d dreaded hearing it; the events of Alexios’ life were always so extraordinary and dramatic that he could have doubted their truth if he hadn’t been involved in more than one of them himself.  
‘So,’ Thaletas said, ‘what are you thinking?’  
‘I’m not sure what the connection to the brothers is. Diagoras worked against the Monger, so I’d have thought the brothers would be on Hermokrates’ side, considering what Diagoras did to them, and that Hermokrates is supposedly pro-Athenian…’ He shrugged.  
Thaletas was lost in thought for a long while before he asked, ‘What do we know about the brothers’ time in Korinthia?’  
‘Not much. Lykinos gained a reputation for poetry and melancholy songs there. About Timotheos - nothing.’  
Thaletas said thoughtfully, ‘I think we can assume that whatever it was, they made a fortune doing it, to judge by the house.’ He frowned. ‘If you’re going to lie to Alcibiades and get the bounty paid off that way, we could just go home, you know.’  
Alexios said with a smile lurking in his eyes, ‘Except that Euripides told me that all of Alcibiades' property has been confiscated; I’m not entirely sure he can pay.’ He knew what Thaletas would say to that – they had had the conversation before, more than once.  
Thaletas frowned. ‘Alexios! This is what happens. You take these jobs and you never worry about whether you’re going to get paid or not!’  
He grinned. ‘That’s what you’re for, my love.’  
Thaletas looked at him sternly, but a smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself. ‘What did you do before I came along?’  
‘I was always poor,’ he said, a grin spreading across his face. ‘And sad and lonely, and unloved....’  
Thaletas arched a brow, and interrupted him, battling to remain serious. ‘Don’t start with the sweet talk! You’re still in trouble.’  
‘Sorry,’ Alexios said, sounding not at all contrite. ‘I suppose you’ll have to punish me later.’  
Thaletas gave up and laughed then. ‘You’re incorrigible.’  
Alexios just grinned as they headed back to the Piraeus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Note: The details of the enmity between Alcibiades and Nicias is taken from Thucydides. Alcibiades’ grandfather had been ambassador to Sparta, and Alcibiades was certain that, on the strength of this family connection, he would be sent to broker the peace in 421BC – he resented being passed over in favour of Nicias. He’d taken it upon himself to ‘look after’ the Spartan prisoners in Athens (who had been taken at the Battle of Pylos, see note to Ch. 11) in the hopes that this would stand him in good stead with the Spartans; but it was decided that he was too young.  
> Demosthenes may or may not have been involved with the plot against Alcibiades. He was, however, voted as general in Sicilia in the following year.  
> As far as I am aware, Andocides is never heard of again after the trial of Alcibiades.


	7. A Finished Job?

Alexios and Thaletas rode through Athens while the sky was still dark, only the faintest hint of dawn in the sky. The cemetery was quiet and deserted. While Alexios went off amongst the memorial stones, Thaletas waited, holding the horses and looked over at the soldiers patrolling up and down the walls. He was eager to return to Sparta so that he could pass on the preparations he had seen going forward in the city to the Kings. He hoped that they would take him seriously, but that would all depend on which of the Kings deigned to see them; Agis would listen and take any information seriously, but Pleistoanax was notoriously difficult towards mercenaries, and Alexios in particular.  
Thaletas stamped his feet and hugged closer into his cloak. He turned around and looked for Alexios amongst the stones. He found him crouching before a memorial urn, one hand resting on the stone, his head bowed. He knew that this was the memorial for Phoibe. Alexios had spoken of her sometimes, with the kind of regret that time never softened.  
Thaletas sighed heavily, but was taken away from his thoughts by the sound of horses approaching. He whistled, and in a moment Alexios was back at his side.  
‘That’s Andocides,’ he said quietly, ‘And a guard in a dark tunic.’  
The two horsemen reached them. They reigned in and dismounted. Andocides looked pale and hangdog; when he caught Thaletas’ eye, he thought he also looked baleful, and wondered what that was about.  
Alexios wasn’t paying any attention to him though. The guard had thrown back his hood, and Thaletas heard Alexios inhale sharply.  
‘Demosthenes,’ he said. ‘You’re brave coming here.’ He reflexively reached for the spear, but Thaletas stopped him with a touch to the shoulder. They looked at one another for a brief moment before Alexios reluctantly lowered his arm  
Demosthenes said, ‘That’s rich, coming from a man with an enormous bounty on his head, and with him, a Spartan General.’  
Thaletas was surprised. The Athenian General was handsome, well dressed and remarkably genial, his tone that of old friends discussing nothing of importance. Thaletas hadn’t known what he expected of Demosthenes, but this wasn’t it.  
Alexios, attempting to match Demosthenes’ tone, but unable to keep the heavy sarcasm out of his voice, said, ‘Thanks for that bounty, by the way. You’ve made the last few years fun for me.’ Demosthenes opened his mouth to say something but Alexios stopped him, ‘Timotheos told you he’ll be retracting the bounty?’  
‘That’s why I’m here.’ He paused as though gathering his thoughts.  
Thaletas, who was studying the General’s face as he spoke, saw that there was something sad around his eyes. He frowned, wondering at that.  
Demosthenes cleared his throat and continued, ‘I hope you can see now that I have no bad feelings towards you myself. You and I had a fine working relationship for many years; the bounty was only raised because Timotheos wished it, and I owed a debt to his father.’  
Alexios raised a dubious eyebrow. Demosthenes had always been a persuasive speaker; he reminded Alexios of Brasidas in that way; but this time, he remained unconvinced. He said, ‘Now that I don’t believe, not after Lemnos.’  
Demosthenes looked at Thaletas then and said gently, ‘How you were treated there went against my express orders. The men unfortunately got carried away.’ He did sound genuinely sorry, but Thaletas remained coldly aloof. Perhaps he meant it; but that didn’t change the fact that Thaletas had nearly been killed, and lost months of his life recovering.  
Demosthenes shifted his attention back to Alexios, ‘But then, they were punished for their disobedience, weren’t they?’  
Alexios looked at him with a nonchalant expression. ‘I don’t know anything about that; but if they were, I can’t say I’d be sorry.’  
Demosthenes and Alexios looked at one another for a long moment, and Thaletas couldn’t tell exactly what was passing between them, but thought it likely that they were both acknowledging that that particular score had been settled, because Alexios noticeably relaxed. He said, ‘You won’t stand in the way of that retraction, then?’  
Demosthenes said, ‘If you bring Hermokrates to Athens, then I’m in full support.’  
Thaletas narrowed his eyes. There was something in his voice that he didn’t like. ‘Why do you want him here?’  
The Athenian looked at Thaletas again and shrugged casually. ‘I have no interest in the matter, of course, beyond a patron’s interest.’ He turned then, and mounted his horse which pawed at the ground, eager to go. ‘Travel safely,’ he said to them all.  
He hesitated for a moment - looked to the city then back at Alexios with an expression which Thaletas couldn’t read. Alexios looked up at him expectantly, eyebrows raised, and Demosthenes opened his mouth to say something; but he thought better of it, shook his head to himself, and spurred his horse away, back towards the city.

‘I don’t like that Demosthenes is involved,’ Thaletas said quietly once they were on the road, Andocides riding ahead of them. ‘It makes me think that our going to Korinthia has nothing to do with the brothers, and everything to do with Athenian politics.’ He looked at Alexios, who just shrugged, so he continued, ‘But then again, if Hermokrates is pro-Athenian, then a political motivation makes no sense. Demosthenes would surely want to keep him in Korinthia to further the city’s interests.’  
Alexios looked at Thaletas out of the corner of his eye ‘You really should try things my way for once. Don’t ask so many questions; just do the job and get paid.’  
Thaletas raised one eyebrow and said dryly, ‘Get paid, if the sponsor hasn’t had all his property confiscated, you mean?’  
Alexios’ only reply to that was a grin. A moment later though, he said seriously, ‘It doesn’t really matter why they want the man, Thaletas. Whether it’s personal or political. We need that bounty cleared, and this is how we can get it done. Sometimes you have to look at these things purely as a mercenary.’  
Thaletas gave a single nod, but made no other reply. He was aware that Alexios was probably right, but his lifetime of cautious planning, drilled into him throughout his training at Sparta, would not allow him to function that way. He always wanted to know more.

It was midday when they passed the Wall of Nikias, then they saw the Akrokorinth dominating the skyline, before finally the city came into view on their right, at the bottom of a steep drop.  
Alexios had grown perceptibly quieter as they approached the city, and Thaletas asked, ‘What is it?’   
‘I can’t help but think of Brasidas when I come here.’  
Thaletas looked at him sympathetically. It was rare for Alexios to talk about Brasidas at all, but Thaletas had always wished to know more; he listened intently as Alexios continued. ‘I hated Spartans at the time, so I never expected to befriend one – much less a war hero.’ He shook his head with a wry smile. ‘The first time I met him, we were fighting a group of thugs in a burning warehouse. I still can’t believe the way he fought. It was the first time I ever stood beside someone who matched my own skill. It was amazing.’ He paused, his eyes unfocussed as he remembered the fight, a smile playing on his lips for a moment. Then he looked at Thaletas, and said, ‘Afterwards, we talked about Sparta, about mater. I expected to find him coarse, uncaring, but he wasn’t. He was understanding, caring even. That was the first time I really questioned the story I had been telling myself about Sparta.’  
‘I’m glad you did,’ Thaletas said with a small smile.  
Alexios returned the smile, then continued, ‘We spent a few months here, as you know. He was advisor to the fleet in Achaea at the time, but had come to Korinthia to recruit more ships for the attempt he made on the Piraeus.’  
‘I remember hearing about that. In Sparta, they said that if he had been in command rather than an advisor, he’d have succeeded.’  
Alexios smiled. ‘If anyone could have, it would have been him. He was courageous enough for anything.’  
‘I met him that year, you know,’ Thaletas said quietly. ‘My last year in the agoge.’  
Alexios raised his brows in surprise. ‘You did?’  
He nodded. ‘After the first year of the war, when he defended Methone and received the commendation from Archidemos, everyone knew who he was, of course; but I was just another kid in the agoge.’ He sounded nostalgic. ‘I think I’ve mentioned before that Herodianus and I were in the same group?’  
Alexios nodded that he had, and Thaletas continued, ‘The year before he and I were sent to Mykonos, during the winter, it was our turn to provide dinner. It was always difficult to feed the group at that season. We’d been hunting, and came back with one lousy goat - an old stringy one, about a hundred years old.’ He smiled, but in a grim kind of way. ‘So, we went out again, to see what we could lift. Herodianus went to Pitana, and I, to Limnai. I snuck into a house, not realising it was Brasidas’. He was in the next room, and as he walked in - I didn’t hear him coming, so I had a loaf of bread in my hand and everything - he said, “You’re bold, boy, but you’re not supposed to get caught.”’  
Thaletas shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. ‘I thought that was it. I was going to get beaten in the mess after avoiding being caught since I was seven years old. I was horrified, but he just smiled at me, and said, “Winter is always the hardest, isn’t it?” I didn’t say anything, just sidled towards the door. He saw, and said, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone I caught you. Just remember: hunger dulls the senses and causes you to make foolish mistakes. Always eat something before going on a raid.” He winked, and then I ran. Anytime I saw him during that winter, he would wink at me in recognition. The other boys were jealous - they thought he was mentoring me.’  
Alexios smiled. ‘He was always like that. Diplomatic, knowing when kindness would go further than force. I learnt a lot from him. I really loved him,’ he said, half to himself, before glancing at Thaletas and adding, ‘I mean, as you might love a brother. I’d never had a friend like that before.’  
Thaletas said softly, ‘You don’t need to explain that. I’m sorry I accused you of other feelings. That’s how I felt about my group - I know how it is. Most of them are with Brasidas now.’  
‘You two are as cheerful as a funeral,’ Andocides muttered.  
Alexios said, ‘Look on the bright side. After this, you’ll never have to see us again.’  
‘Unless someone else sends you after me,’ he said sulkily.  
Alexios snorted. ‘Why would they? Who else have you had exiled?’  
Andocides glowered, but didn’t answer.

That night, dressed in their best tunics, Alexios and Thaletas went with Andocides to Hermokrates’ symposium. It was being held in a pretty square not far from the Temple of Apollo, which at that time of year was filled with pink blossom. The party was watched over by a charming statue of Aphrodite, who in the flickering light of lanterns seemed almost to move.  
There were a great many people there of all kinds; businessmen, politicians, soldiers and artists, and of course many hetaerae. Alexios had heard that Anthousa was expected, but she never arrived, probably because she still resented Alexios’ having sided with Brasidas against her all those years ago. She had never reproached him openly, but their working relationship had come to an abrupt end then, a message that Alexios understood.  
Andocides had been sulky and sour all day, but by the time they reached the symposium, he was transformed. He flitted from person to person, cheerfully greeting everyone as though they were old friends.  
Alexios stood off to one side by himself, nursing a bowl of rather average wine, drinking and feeling uncomfortable as he always did at these kinds of events. The problem was that everyone knew who he was – his legend still loomed large in the city – and so they were all very polite to him - too polite, he thought; the kind of manners that came from fear.  
He looked across the crowd, his eyes seeking out Thaletas, and found him with his head bent towards a seedy looking man in a brown tunic. Andocides laughed beside them – they were telling jokes then, Alexios thought with an eyeroll. Thaletas was many things, but a comedian was not one of them. He felt rather sorry for the man in the brown tunic; and as he watched, Thaletas reached the end of his joke, laughed, but his listener only half smiled –the kind of smile that had an edge of bewilderment to it. Clearly, he didn’t understand Spartan humour; but then who did?  
Alexios grinned to himself. For all his bad jokes, Thaletas was definitely better at this kind of work than he was. He blended in better, with his soft, youthful face and his slight limp, he could play the harmless traveller with aplomb. No one would have believed he was a misthios.  
Earlier, Alexios had overheard him telling someone he was on his way to Athens to take up philosophy, and the man accepted the story without a moment’s hesitation. If Alexios had told someone that, they’d have laughed in his face, though after all the time he had spent with Socrates, he could have a philosophical conversation with the best of them if pressed. Sometimes he liked to do it just for fun, just to confuse whoever he was talking to – especially Spartans, he thought, chuckling to himself. It had added interest on several occasions during some of the duller public festivities.  
Thaletas at that moment looked over to him, and gestured that he should go and join him, so he passed through the crowd, who scattered before him like frightened pigeons, and approached his lover. He saw that two further men had joined Thaletas, Andocides and the brown tunic man. He saw at once which was Hermokrates. He was a big man – not as big as the Monger had been though – and his arrogant, condescending manner was unpleasantly familiar.  
Andocides smiled and said, ‘Alexios, Thaletas; I’d like you to meet Hermokrates, the Leader of Korinthia.’  
Up close, Alexios could see that Hermokrates was very drunk; he was swaying ever so slightly, and was having trouble focussing. ‘Who are you two? Why are you here?’  
Andocides said, ‘Thaletas is a philosopher on his way to Athens to study; Alexios is – er, his bodyguard.’  
Alexios raised an eyebrow at Andocides, but said to Hermokrates, ‘Your city is beautiful.’ He had never met a leader who didn’t enjoy having the city described as theirs, and Hermokrates was no exception.  
He smiled benignly. ‘Yes, Korinthia flourishes under my careful ministrations.’ Then he seemed to see Alexios for the first time through the drunken haze. He squinted at him. ‘You look familiar. Have we met before?’  
Alexios said, ‘Maybe. I knew your brother, the Monger.’  
Hermokrates stared at him for a moment, then looked him up and down with a leer. ‘I’ll bet you did.’  
Alexios frowned. ‘Not in that way,’ he said stiffly.  
Hermokrates laughed. ‘You can do some work for me too, if you like.’  
‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ Alexios said, ignoring the creeping of his skin. He may not be as ugly as the Monger, he thought, but he was just as disgusting.  
Hermokrates glowered at him for a moment, but then the man who had arrived with the leader caught his attention, and Hermokrates turned away from Alexios.  
Thaletas took the opportunity to raise an enquiring eyebrow at Alexios, who explained under his breath, ‘The Monger was well known for his rape dungeon.’  
Thaletas looked startled, ‘Wow.’ Then he shook his head a little and said, ‘The man with Hermokrates – do you recognise him? I feel like I’ve met him before.’  
Alexios gave the man in question a long look over out of the corner of his eye, and shook his head.  
Thaletas nodded but frowned. The familiarity worried him.  
Hermokrates suddenly announced loudly, to anyone who would listen, ‘This wine is awful, I’m going home; but of course, you’re all invited to the Leader House, where I will provide you with the very best vintage and entertainments!’ He winked at Alexios as he said, ‘It’s behind the porneion – for those who are into that kind of thing.’  
He turned then, and magisterially left the square, with a large flock of followers going after him.

Alexios had drunk too much, that was clear. He’d lost control of his volume, and had even been singing earlier. Thaletas grimaced to think of it – he really was a terrible, terrible singer; but at least he hadn’t wanted to play fight everyone. Thaletas had witnessed that more than once, and the play fighting inevitably led to real fighting, and strained friendships the next day.  
Alexios was sitting on the steps outside the Leader House, his head resting on his knees, watching two dogs wandering up and down the street. The townspeople had all gone home to bed, and quiet finally fell over the street.  
It was fortunate, Thaletas thought, that the one person at the symposium who had drunk substantially more than Alexios was Hermokrates. He was passed out cold, making Thaletas’ task of binding and gagging him much easier than he could have hoped for. He carried him out to the horse which Andocides had ridden, and tied him over the saddle.  
‘Come on, Alexios. Time to go.’  
Alexios attempted to mount Phobos. The horse looked at Thaletas with long suffering, but after a few failed attempts, he made it into the saddle.  
‘Should I tie you on, too?’ Thaletas asked jokingly.  
Alexios tried to wink at him, then settled for a leer, no doubt intended to be alluring, full of intent that he would never be able to follow up on. He said, ‘I’ll have to teach you a thing or two for your cheek.’  
Thaletas laughed at him. ‘You won’t be teaching me a single thing tonight, that much I know. Come on, we need to get moving.’

It was a long ride to Athens, made longer by Alexios’ moaning about the pain in his head; but even he acknowledged that they shouldn’t get caught on the road with the leader of Korinthia slung over the back of a horse, so speed was of the essence.  
They reached the port of Piraeus in the early morning, the city just stirring to life once more. They rode up to the house, and Thaletas left Alexios slumped on his horse, holding his head between his hands, while he untied Hermokrates from the saddle and pulled him to the ground. The leader was conscious again, but not in any better shape than Alexios. Thaletas shepherded him gently towards the house, and he barely resisted, shuffling along where he was told.  
The brothers’ house was quiet, and Thaletas wondered what he would do with Hermokrates if no one was home; but he hadn’t even knocked when Lykinos opened the door.  
Lykinos looked at the swaying Hermokrates, and said to Thaletas, ‘Bring him in.’  
Thaletas pushed Hermokrates down a short hallway and into the room indicated. He and Lykinos looked down at the slumped, moaning figure for a long moment. Thaletas looked up at the Athenian and was surprised to see that Lykinos had tears in his eyes.  
‘You’ll retract the bounty as promised?’ he asked, more gently than he had intended.  
Lykinos nodded solemnly, looking at him as he dashed the tears away. ‘I’ll send to Demosthenes straight away.’  
For a long moment, they looked at one another. Thaletas wondered why he didn’t just leave, but something made him linger.  
After a moment, Lykinos said flatly, ‘You think that we’re the enemy; but it’s love. Love is the enemy. This man…’ he trailed off, looking down at Hermokrates, who was looking back at him now with wide eyes. He waved a dismissive hand at Thaletas. ‘You should go. Tell Alexios we’re even.’  
Thaletas turned to leave, but paused once more at the doorway. He saw that Lykinos hadn’t moved, but was still staring down at Hermokrates. He closed the door as he went out, wondering what on earth it all meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Note: In the first year of the war, 431BC, The Athenians were raiding up and down the west coast of Messenia (technically Lakonia), ravaging the land and sacking towns. They besieged a town called Methone, which had poorly garrisoned walls. By chance, Brasidas was leading a patrol in the area. With one hundred hoplites and incredible daring, he broke through the siege and saved the town.  
> He was the first Spartan in the war to receive a commendation in the city, and established his reputation as a hero of the war, known for his daring exploits.  
> He is a really fascinating historical character - a clever, intelligent general, who always took the line that negotiated peace was worth working for, but also brave and daring, knowing when it was best to use force. The game caught him pretty well, I think :)


	8. An Interlude

The rain had been threatening when they left Athens; but as they crossed the northern end of Argos the wind began to roar, tossing the trees around, and then the rain made its arrival. It was the kind of rain that made it nigh on impossible to see more than a pace or two ahead.  
‘Let’s find somewhere to stop,’ Alexios suggested, having to shout because of the wind; Thaletas, hunched into his cloak didn’t try to reply, just nodded agreement.  
Alexios led them up a hill and down the other side, confident of his path. There was a tomb ahead – the Tomb of Agamemnon – and he hoped that no one would be there on such a night.  
They were in luck, finding the place empty. It was slightly warmer out of the wind, but Thaletas set about laying a fire with a stack of wood left behind by some obliging traveller. Alexios took out the bear pelts they used for sleeping and laid them out. They both stripped out of their wet clothes, laying them over a fallen column that lay across the tunnel to dry before quickly dressing again, against the cold of the tomb.  
Alexios sat down on the pelt with a sigh. ‘It’s been a long day.’ He was glad his head had ceased paining him at last, but he was exhausted.  
Thaletas was crouched beside the fire once more, and was prodding at it to get the larger pieces of timber to catch. He didn’t seem to have heard him. Alexios took out an apple for himself, and offered Thaletas one. He looked up from the fire and shook his head, but came and sat beside Alexios, his knees pulled up.  
They sat without speaking for a long while, only the sound of the crackling fire and of Alexios crunching the apple breaking the silence, until Thaletas said, ‘You can stop staring at me with that worried crease between your brows.’  
Alexios cautiously said, ‘It is only that you seem preoccupied.’  
He didn’t reply for a long moment, but then said, ‘You should have witnessed the scene when I handed Hermokrates over to Lykinos. It was…’ he sought for the right words, but eventually just shrugged.  
‘What happened?’ Alexios asked.  
‘He cried,’ Thaletas said. He looked at Alexios. ‘Lykinos, I mean; I hate to admit it, but it was affecting to see. Whatever happened between them is something awful.’  
Alexios raised an eyebrow and said, ‘Don’t take it too seriously. He’s a poet. He makes everything melodramatic. He used to say that because I didn’t love him, he was going to throw himself into the sea to die. He never did.’  
Thaletas shook his head with a faint smile. ‘You’re probably right; but there’s something else. I’ve been thinking all day about the symposium, about the man who came with Hermokrates. I think I’ve remembered who he is. I’m almost certain he’s a friend of Isadas.’ Thaletas’ brother, Isadas, was a Krypteia, and he was implying that this other man was one, too.  
Alexios frowned. ‘Really?’ He considered for a long moment before saying, ‘That’s really not good. You think that Hermokrates was working for Sparta?’  
Thaletas pursed his lips. ‘It might be that Hermokrates didn’t know the other man was a Krypteia, of course; but if Hermokrates was on our side, then it would explain why Demosthenes wanted him alive in Athens – even if the brothers had other reasons.’  
Alexios cursed. ‘And that crafty bastard will make sure the Kings hear about it just as quickly as a herald can travel.’  
‘Only if we’re right, and he is a Spartan agent.’ He laid down then, closing his eyes. He felt sick, but it wasn’t entirely this possible betrayal of his mother country that was making him feel that way.  
Alexios said, his voice firm, ‘Everything will be fine.’  
Thaletas opened one eye. ‘You sound very confident.’  
He gave a half smile. ‘Well – I’ve been in worse situations with the Kings before.’  
Thaletas closed his eye again, and for a long time he was silent; so long that Alexios thought he'd gone to sleep; but he suddenly said, ‘I have to say, you really knew how to pick them.’  
Alexios frowned. ‘What do you mean?’  
‘Your lovers,’ he said. ‘A drunk obsessive; a rich, bounty raising bastard...’  
Alexios grimaced and interrupted. ‘It takes a special kind of man to tangle with me in the first place, I suppose. Most decent people wouldn’t come anywhere near me. You were the only one foolish enough to try.’  
‘What about Lykaon?’  
Alexios flushed. ‘He told you about that?’  
Thaletas opened one eye again. ‘I guessed.’ He looked at him for a moment. ‘I can understand that one, though.’  
Alexios frowned and narrowed his eyes slightly. ‘You mean to say you were tempted?’  
Thaletas smiled then; which, had Alexios not been feeling so frazzled by the direction the conversation had taken, he’d have been relieved to see – though the smile was still slightly grim.  
‘It was a long time to be stuck in one room with nothing else to do; and he is very fine to look at…’  
Alexios stared at him, and Thaletas stared back. Alexios shifted closer. In a mock-serious voice, he said, ‘You get that doctor right out of your head.’  
‘Fool,’ Thaletas said, something in his face tightening.  
Alexios wondered what he was thinking, but before he knew what was happening, Thaletas’ hand shot out, taking him by the hair, pulling his face to his. He kissed him demandingly, pushing him onto his back, pinning him down with his weight. He said breathlessly, huskily, ‘You’re mine, Alexios, and you always will be.’  
He sat up just long enough to pull Alexios’ tunic up and over his head, before pushing him back down, dropping his head to his neck, kissing and nibbling, the stubble on his chin making Alexios throw his head back, eyes closed, a grumble of pleasure in his throat. Thaletas’ kisses wandered down across Alexios’ collarbone, then chest, before reaching one nipple – which Thaletas took between his lips, before unexpectedly nipping it with his teeth.  
Alexios grunted with the shot of pain that this caused, and looked down at him to remonstrate; but Thaletas was looking up at him so intently that the words died on his lips. In a voice that was entirely menacing, Thaletas said, ‘I swear; if I ever see that malaka Timotheos again, I’ll kill him.’  
Alexios was startled, wondering where this sudden resurgence of hatred towards Timotheos had come from. For a moment, they just stared at one another.  
Whatever Thaletas read in Alexios’ face must have been satisfactory, because he resumed his progress downwards without any further words.

The Spartan fell asleep, curled into Alexios’ shoulder. Alexios pulled the pelt up over them both, and stared up at the dancing golden light on the elaborately decorated ceiling. He was bone tired, but he couldn’t sleep, his mind running ahead over what they would have to do in the coming days to try and get ahead of this possible plot of Demosthenes’.  
It struck him that they ought to ride back to Athens and get Hermokrates back again; but he knew that Thaletas was determined to pass along to the Kings what they'd seen in Athens as soon as possible, and would not wish to delay.  
At least the herald, if one had been sent, would have been stuck in the same rain storm, and wouldn’t have been able to get too far ahead of them. There was a good chance that Alexios would be able to find him along the road in the morning. He'd send Ikaros out at first light to search; as Brasidas had once said, a quick slice of the blade would solve their immediate troubles; though there would be another sent in his place before long, he supposed.  
He wondered if it might not be worth being the ones to tell the Kings what had happened rather than waiting for the axe to fall. They could paint it in a better light, or lie outright; something along the lines of: they’d seen Demosthenes’ darkly clothed men abduct Hermokrates and did nothing as they believed him to be an Athenian sympathiser – though the fact that they now knew him to be a Spartan agent would take some explaining.  
He frowned, a headache forming in his temples. He had never been one to make elaborate plans and schemes; he didn’t like to be anything less than direct, to act not think.  
No, he thought; going back to Athens was the only real way to make good their mistake, loathe as he was to do it.  
Thaletas said sleepily, ‘You’re thinking so loudly, I can almost hear your thoughts.’  
‘Sorry,’ Alexios said, kissing the top of his head.  
He shifted, snuggling closer. ‘I suppose you want to go back to Athens to get Hermokrates.’  
Alexios said, ‘I don’t want to, no; but I think it might be the safest course.’  
Thaletas sighed. ‘I doubt you'll find him, but I think you’re right. I’ll go on to Sparta alone, then.’  
Alexios closed his eyes, willing himself to relax, and Thaletas fell asleep again; but it was a long time before he too drifted off.


	9. Stentor's Best Intentions

Stentor was hunting, but he was having no luck. He really didn’t have the patience for it, and after he missed another deer by a wide margin, he gave up. He’d never been great with a bow; but then he’d really only come out to have a break from the organised chaos in Sparta. The days since the religious games had been very busy. Sparta was preparing to march on Argolis, Epidaurus specifically; there had been troubles with a lapsed treaty with that region and threats had been made; the council had decided they would answer with military action. The army would be marching out in two days’ time.  
He’d been thrilled to be assigned as one of the commanding generals, but it had of course meant a lot more work. He’d spent all of that day focused on a particularly thorny question around the provisioning of weapons, and with no resolution reached, he’d given up and come hunting.  
He found a fallen tree on a hilltop that looked down over the city and let his thoughts wander. Everyone knew that what was going unspoken was that Athens, unlike Sparta, did have a treaty with Argolis, and there was a chance they would weigh in. Stentor had voted against the offensive on those grounds; he was not alone in not wishing to reignite the war; but after Alcibiades made a rousing speech before the council supposedly outlining Athens’ imperial ambitions, there was no holding the council back. He’d claimed that Athens was intending to first take Sicilia, then Carthage, after which Sparta, indeed the whole Peloponnese, would have no chance against the combined power of the Athenian Empire.  
Stentor had viewed this declaration very suspiciously, as he would anything that came out of the Athenians mouth; if nothing else, the man was making it clear how much of a traitor he was – why should they trust him? Even a blind man could see that he only wanted them to sail on Syracuse out of spite, Stentor thought bitterly; but he was in a minority, and the motion to march on Argolis was voted in by a huge margin.  
He snorted and pushed all of that aside. Thinking about it was pointless.  
His thoughts wandered down a familiar path - He found himself recurring to the question of who was right in their behaviour towards the situation with Thaletas and Alexios; Myrrine or Isadora.  
He frowned in irritation. He’d always been so certain of what was right - that was, what he had been taught in the agoge and the wise words of the Wolf - and what was wrong – pretty much everything else; but when it came to the behaviour of the women folk, the more he tried to apply the Spartan rules he lived by to them, the less sense those rules made. It gave him the deeply uncomfortable sensation that he knew nothing. He had started to see that there was a whole other world running alongside his own which he’d been unaware of before; and now that he was aware of it, he found it incredibly frustrating that his rules didn’t seem to apply there.  
Like the dinner at which Alexios had made his announcement. It still puzzled Stentor.  
His brother had been unusually nervous. He’d cleared his throat several times before he’d said, ‘I want you all to know that Thaletas and I have decided to remain in Stymphalos - together.’ He said “together” with a special emphasis that no one missed.  
Stentor had been stunned, and stared around the room, waiting for everyone to break out in exclamations - but it never happened. Worse, he’d noticed that Kassandra’s eyes had sparkled with repressed laughter, which was almost as shocking to Stentor’s feelings as the announcement itself. Nikolaos’ face had been surprised, then frowning, but he remained quiet.  
Stentor was the only one who exploded - he grimaced to think of it now. ‘Why are you all just sitting there?’ he’d asked, leaping to his feet, pushing his stool back so it fell over. He’d waved a spoon at them all, unaware it was in his hand. ‘And why are you smiling?’ he’d demanded of Kassandra, jabbing it in her direction.  
She’d looked at him with narrowed eyes. Sarcastically, she’d asked, ‘Why are you so angry? Are you jealous?’  
He’d snarled at her - an odd thing to have done, he reflected now. ‘I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted! You’re disgusting!’ He’d turned on Alexios, who was standing, poised to defend himself if Stentor decided to attack him, but otherwise very still.  
Kassandra goaded Stentor, ‘Why don’t you just yell some more, little brother? That’ll fix everything!’  
Myrrine stood then, her face drawn as she said, ‘Both of you, calm down.’ Kassandra had scoffed at her, but hadn’t said anything further, just stared at Stentor balefully.  
He’d then turned on Nikolaos. Gods, he wished he hadn’t. ‘Are you just going to sit there, pater? Allow this... this.... depravity?’  
Nikolaos was still sitting, picking over his plate as though nothing of any interest was going on. He looked up at Stentor, his face mild, and said quietly, ‘You’re making a spectacle of yourself, Stentor. It’s beneath you.’  
‘You’re all sick!’ he’d said, stung by these words more than anything else. Throwing down the spoon he suddenly realised he was still holding, he’d turned on his heel and stormed out.  
He had come to realise since then that both Kassandra and Myrrine must have known what was going on before the announcement. He wondered how long for, and why they had accepted it so calmly.  
With a frown, he stood, and started walking back to Sparta.  
He couldn’t imagine a way in which Alexios might have revealed his perversion which would have resulted in Stentor’s reacting less angrily. It was wrong to lay with men after they left the agoge - that was the ancient law laid down by Lycurgus, and the laws were the bedrock that made Sparta superior to all other Greek states. Men who did not abide by the law were excluded from the most important rituals and festivals; but worse was the disgrace that attached to them, which was not included in the law, but was an inevitable consequence.  
Anyway, he thought; both the women had reacted in a way he could not understand – the coolness of Myrrine, the levity of Kassandra.  
So why hadn’t Myrrine been angry?  
He’d reached the House of Leonidas at this point in his thinking, and found Myrrine there with Elene.  
Gods, she’s back, he thought; but he said, ‘Chaire, Elene. You’ve come to bless us with your geniality again, I see.’  
She smiled - she was pretty, he thought, though it was quite destroyed by her bitterness. ‘Chaire, Stentor. I heard in the agora that they’ve made you a General for the upcoming campaign. I came to congratulate you.’  
He raised an eyebrow. These were the most pleasant words he’d ever had from her, and it struck him as very odd. ‘Yes. It was either that or sending me to Sicilia; but Gylippus was voted that position.’  
‘I’m glad for you,’ she said, then stood. ‘You’ll serve alongside my brother. He finally got the position he deserves.’  
Stentor’s eyebrows shot up. ‘I didn’t know you were his sister. There is no family likeness.’  
‘No,’ she said, ‘We have the same mother, different fathers. He favours his father, I mine.’ She smiled at Myrrine, and then said to Stentor, ‘I only came to say that; I have somewhere to be.’  
As she passed him though, she brushed past him, arm to arm, and gave him a coy glance.  
His mouth almost dropped open, but he caught himself. When she was gone, he said, ‘She’s acting very strangely.’  
Myrrine raised an eyebrow. ‘I think she’s impressed with your new command.’  
He frowned. ‘How is it that my previous record of successful commands has never elicited a nice word out of her, but this one has, even though the outcome is unknown?’  
Myrrine smiled wryly. ‘I expect it’s because you got the position instead of someone she doesn’t like.’  
He grimaced. ‘Probably.’ He sat on a stool and set about taking his shoes off as he began shyly, ‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, mater.’  
Myrrine glanced at him. Everyone had noticed he’d started asking all sorts of strange questions in recent months, all seemingly unconnected. She often wondered what went on behind his serious face. He was totally unreadable. ‘What is it, lamb?’  
‘Why weren’t you angry at Alexios when he decided to live with Thaletas?’  
She frowned. ‘Should I have been?’  
He flushed before her stern look, but said defiantly, ‘What they’re doing isn’t Spartan, but you are.’  
Myrrine said waspishly, ‘He’s my son, Stentor.’ She closed her eyes for a moment before continuing in a more controlled voice, ‘You know that I thought Alexios was dead for sixteen years. I would never drive him away now that I’ve finally got him back again.’  
He frowned as he thought that through. She wiped her hands and went to sit on the stool beside him. ‘Let me ask you a question. You saw how Isadora reacted - the Spartan way. Do you think that’s how I should have acted?’  
‘That’s what I’m trying to decide,’ he said candidly.  
‘Then think about this: what good has come of Isadora’s more typical Spartan response? Do you think how she’s acted has made Sparta stronger, better?’  
Stentor shook his head. ‘No,’ he said decidedly. ‘Now Thaletas feels that he has no place here; she has driven him further away when he could be useful to our cause.’  
Myrrine patted his leg and stood. ‘There you have your answer. We do not have to like what they do, Stentor; but Alexios remains my son, remains a part of this family. His loyalty to us is beyond doubt – and that means his loyalty to Sparta is too, in a roundabout way.’  
Stentor considered this as Myrrine set about making bread. After a moment, he asked, ‘Do you think Thaletas is disloyal?’  
She tilted her head. ‘Do you?’  
He didn’t reply. He’d had his thoughts on that, but remained uncertain; but if Myrrine was right, it wouldn’t hurt to try to take a hand in healing the breach between Isadora and Thaletas and solidifying what loyalty he still had.  
That night, after he left the mess, Stentor strode with purpose to the house of Isadora. He was certain that if he told her what he had concluded, that a true Spartan would have acted differently than she had, then she couldn’t help but see she had been wrong.  
He told himself he was doing this for Sparta; but he really wanted to help Thaletas. To admit that would mean admitting that he cared about Thaletas and his brother though, and that just didn’t feel right to him. Caring about others never really did, unless they were his brothers in arms - or Nikolaos, of course.  
Isadora lived in an upstairs apartment. She was standing on the small porch by the front door with a cup of wine in her hand. She was looking down on a group of musicians below in the small marketplace, a smile playing on her lips.  
He called up to her from the foot of the stairs. ‘Isadora - might I have a word?’  
She looked down, and seeing who it was, the smile faded. ‘What do you want?’ she asked, barely polite.  
He approached the conversation as he would have done a difficult discussion with one of his men – head on. ‘I’ve come to talk to you, as I think you must be unaware that you’ve acted wrongly.’  
For a moment she just stared at him. ‘What do you mean? About what?’  
‘Thaletas. I know you think...’  
She interrupted him. ‘Who do you think you are? Coming to my house, lecturing me?’  
He said in a firmer tone, ‘And who do you think you are, speaking to a General in office like that?’  
She scowled. Women in Sparta had a lot more latitude than in other parts of Greece, but even so, it paid to step carefully. ‘I beg your pardon,’ she said stiffly.  
He continued, ‘As I was saying - you thought you were acting like a good Spartan when you disowned Thaletas; but you weren’t.’  
With disdain, she said, ‘With all due respect, I am not a child. The laws say...’  
‘I know the laws,’ he interrupted her irritably, annoyed that she was being so difficult. ‘Those who don’t marry and bear sons are punished in the laws by exclusions from certain elements of civic and religious life. You should know that this was encoded because even Lycurgus knew there were more important duties than marriage - and that is, doing what’s right for Sparta.’  
She narrowed her eyes. ‘What do you mean, exactly?’  
‘I hardly need to remind you that your duty is to your country first, and your country will need your son’s absolute loyalty more than ever in the months to come. Your duty is to bind him to his home once more.’  
‘Never!’ she said venomously. ‘He disgusts me!’  
Stentor frowned. ‘Did you not hear what I said? It’s your duty as a Spartan.’  
‘Duty be damned,’ she said and walked inside, slamming the door behind her.

Stentor walked back towards home with a puzzled frown. It hadn’t gone as he’d expected, and he really didn’t know why. She’d acted violently towards Thaletas out of her sense of duty, or so she’d said in her rage the night of the announcement; but now, when he’d explained that her duty actually lay elsewhere, she refused to accept it. It made no logical sense.  
Myrrine and Nikolaos were talking in low voices when he got back to the house. He mumbled greetings as he fetched a beaker and filled it with wine.  
‘Where have you been?’ Nikolaos asked.  
He sat on a stool at the table, looking moodily into his beaker. ‘I went to see Isadora.’  
They both stared at him for a moment, before Myrrine asked, ‘Why?’  
‘To tell her she’s mistaken, of course.’  
Myrrine ran a hand over her face before she said, ‘You told her she was wrong to have disowned Thaletas?’  
‘She is, as we discussed earlier. Her duty is to Sparta first, and Sparta needs his absolute loyalty.’  
He looked up then; first at Nikolaos, who was looking at him in bemusement; then at Myrrine.  
She said, ‘Stentor - Isadora wasn’t only acting out of a sense of duty. I don’t think she’s behaving rightly - not as a good mother, nor even as a Spartan. Telling her that, though, will not have changed her mind.’  
He sighed glumly. ‘No. I got that impression.’

Before dawn on the following day, Thaletas and Alexios rode out in separate directions from the tomb of Agamemnon; Alexios went to seek the herald before returning to Athens, while Thaletas set out for Sparta.  
Thaletas reached the city in the middle of the afternoon, and went directly to the throne room. He found that Agis was with the generals preparing for the invasion of Argolis, so only Pleistoanax was in the throne room.  
The king was a middle aged, grey-headed man with sharp eyes and a face that had something of the rat about it. He surveyed Thaletas with a withering gaze. ‘What can a mercenary have to say to me?’  
Thaletas grimaced inwardly. Pleistoanax was notorious for his bad memory of people, and he had almost certainly no recollection of who Thaletas was, or had once been. He didn’t bother raising that though; instead he said, ‘My King; I have come from Athens with information.’  
‘Why were you in Athens?’ the king demanded. ‘I don’t think much of your timing.’  
Patiently Thaletas said, ‘We were sent there by Alcibiades – Alexios of Sparta and myself.’  
The king said, ‘Very well.’ Thaletas thought wryly that he at least knew who Alexios was. ‘What is your information? Be quick – I have things to do.’  
Thaletas laid out what he had seen as succinctly as he could. Pleistoanax at first looked vaguely disinterested; then he stopped Thaletas talking. ‘You mean to say that they are arming for battle?’  
‘I believe so, yes.’  
He bit his lip. They were interrupted by a soldier. ‘My King; a herald has arrived from Athens.’  
‘Show him in.’ He then waved a hand at Thaletas. ‘Step aside.’  
This was incredibly rude seeing as Thaletas hadn’t even been allowed to finish what he was saying, but Thaletas gritted his teeth and did as he was told.  
The herald approached the throne, and bowed from the waist. ‘Demosthenes of Athens sends you greetings,’ he said boldly. Thaletas must have shifted abruptly, because the herald suddenly noticed him. The blood drained from his face. He stammered, ‘I – I am here to tell you of a conspiracy involving…’ He swallowed heavily.  
Pleistoanax said impatiently, ‘Spit is out!’  
Thaletas stepped forward. ‘Let me tell you what he is intending to say, my King, which I would have done had I been permitted to finish what I was saying before he was invited in.’  
Pleistoanax frowned. ‘Are you lecturing me? That’s totally outside protocol, mercenary.’  
Thaletas ignored this. ‘Demosthenes sends you word that he has the Spartan agent Hermokrates has been abducted from Korinthia. Is that not so?’ he demanded of the herald, who had stepped backwards as Thaletas stepped forward.  
He stammered again. ‘Well, partially…’  
Thaletas said, ‘Then my King, be assured that Alexios of Sparta is already on his way to Athens to retrieve this man.’  
The herald said in alarm, ‘What? But it was he who…’  
Thaletas looked at him in his most menacing manner, and the herald took another step back. ‘My King,’ Thaletas continued, ‘Alexios and myself have been conducting an operation to identify those in Korinthia conspiring against Sparta, and Hermokrates has been of use to us in that.’ Gods, he thought, what am I saying?  
Pleistoanax looked confused, but said, ‘Look, I don’t have a head for these matters. Herald, you can go – Sparta knows all it needs to of what’s going on in Athens.’ The herald hastily left. He was no doubt off to ride at all speed for Athens, Thaletas thought, to alert Demosthenes to Alexios’ return to the city.  
The king said irritably, ‘You should have led with that information, misthios. The Eagle Bearer will bring Hermokrates to Sparta?’  
‘That is his intention, yes.’ If he’s still alive, he added to himself grimly.  
The King nodded approval then dismissed him, and Thaletas went back outside. 

The weather was bright and sunny, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the light after the darkness of the throne room. He was still blinking blindly when he was accosted by Isadora.  
‘You have a lot of nerve sending others to beg on your behalf for my forgiveness.’ Her voice was acidic.  
He was confused, and scowled, but tried to remain calm. ‘What are you talking about?’ These were the first words she had said to him in years, and he didn’t want to get angry and drive her off – though at the same time, he felt sick with anxiety and wished she would go away.  
‘Stentor came to my house last night to harangue me about my choices. The nerve of him – and of you - to think that a lecture on my duties as a Spartan would make me overlook your failure to act like a man worthy of respect!’  
That stung, though he had heard it before; he said softly, ‘I didn’t send anyone. I have only just got back to Sparta this morning.’  
She spat. ‘I will never forgive you, Thaletas – not as long as I live. You disgust me.’  
Thaletas turned away from her then, but with a voice coldly enraged, he said over his shoulder, ‘That goes both ways, Isadora.’

He stormed all the way to the House of Leonidas, and found only Kassandra there.  
‘Where’s Stentor?’ he demanded without any preamble.  
Kassandra looked at him in interest, a question hovering on her lips; but seeing that he was too angry to brook any conversation, she said, ‘Down with the army. I’ll take you.’ She wanted to witness whatever was going to come next.  
She led the way past the stables, into the main thoroughfare and then down to the messes. There was a training yard nearby, and there was Stentor, pointing this way and that, barking orders to young soldiers who were loading carts with crates of supplies.  
He saw Kassandra and smiled, but then he noticed Thaletas, and his smile immediately dropped away. He knew from the look on his face that he was not going to enjoy what was coming, and reached for a spear, which he held before himself defensively, just in case.  
Before he could say anything to forestall him, Thaletas had all but yelled, ‘How dare you, you bastard?’  
Stentor said, ‘I was doing what was right…’  
Thaletas interrupted. ‘What was right!? Setting her even more firmly against me?’  
‘No – telling her that her behaviour was totally inappropriate. Someone needed to!’  
‘You...!’ Thaletas breathed heavily out his nose, trying to control himself. ‘You’ve only made her hate me more than before!’  
As they were yelling back and forth, the soldiers had gathered loosely around to listen; Kassandra was watching the two of them with curiosity, prepared to step between them if things degenerated into a physical conflict.  
‘No, I didn’t.’ Without meaning to, he found himself almost pleading. ‘I was only trying to help, Thaletas, I swear.’  
Thaletas replied brusquely, ‘Well don’t! Mind your own damn business!’ Then he went back the way he had come, scattering anyone who was in his way.  
Kassandra watched him go, then turned to Stentor. ‘What did you do?’  
Stentor was experiencing a strange sensation. He thought he ought to be angry, but instead he felt… sad. Sad? What was that about?  
He ordered the men back to work, then said to Kassandra distractedly, ‘I spoke to Isadora last night, that’s all.’  
She looked at him pityingly with a slow shake of the head, a smile lurking on her lips. ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’  
‘I know that now,’ he said sniffily, annoyed at her levity again.  
The smile became more pronounced. ‘It’s quite sweet though, really.’  
He scowled. ‘What is?’  
‘You – trying to help.’  
He irritably told her to go away, and she went with a parting grin.

As she was passing through the exercise yard, Elene’s brother, Vettius, emerged from inside the nearest building to see what the trouble was. As the junior general, he was always getting the jobs that Stentor didn’t want – basically anything indoors. He had been writing up a manifest for the coming campaign all day, and was happy for any excuse that took him away from his task. He was a short, compact man, with a square jaw and bright hazel eyes. When he saw Kassandra, a kind of wistful look crossed his face; but he asked tersely, ‘What was that about?’  
Kassandra slowed her steps. ‘My brother has been working his magic on Thaletas.’  
Vettius tried to suppress a smile, but it lurked at the corners of his mouth anyway. ‘They didn’t come to blows?’  
She shook her head, looking a little regretful. ‘I wouldn’t mind seeing those two fight it out one day, when there’s less rancour between them. Stentor would lose, definitely.’ Then she met his eyes and said abruptly, ‘I’ll see you tonight?’  
The slightest hint of a flush rose to his cheeks, but he said coolly, ‘Of course. I may be a little later than usual with all this.' He gestured around the yard in explanation.  
She nodded, and with a slow wink, she said, ‘Come when you can. I’ll wait.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Note:  
> There was a lot going on during the so-called peace, including a lot of reciprocal pillaging between Sparta and Argolis after the lapse of their treaty. There was a lot of to and fro with treaties at the time in all regions – it’s all pretty complicated; but importantly for this story, Argolis made an alliance with Athens, on the understanding that Athens would not involve itself in their conflict with Sparta, thus breaking the Peace of Nicias.  
> For a few years prior to 414BC, Sparta invaded Argolis annually, and each time, Argolis sent Athens a request for aid. Athens had, up until this point, consistently refused to get involved.


	10. Family

Alexios returned to Sparta the day after the army had left the city for Argolis. The streets were remarkably quiet, the people unusually subdued. It suited his bleak feelings.   
He’d spent two fruitless days in Athens and been unsuccessful in locating Hermokrates. He was angry with himself for not having asked more questions before taking the job from Timotheos, and avoiding the whole mess - as Thaletas would have done. For three years the love of his life had been telling him he had to change the way he approached his work, and he had just smiled indulgently, paying no heed whatsoever. Alexios had trained him to be a misthios; he surely knew better - or so he had told himself.  
Now he allowed himself to see what he had been repressing all along. Thaletas was right; he needed to change.   
He sighed, and patted Phobos on the neck as they entered the city along the main thoroughfare. At best, he thought, the Spartan agent had been taken to one of the regions or islands under Athens’ control; at worst, and far more likely, he had been tortured and killed.   
He went directly to the King’s throne room, and found that Agis had marched with the army to Argolis. Pleistoanax was still there, but was in the middle of an interview with an irate farmer – he could hear raised voices through the doors; something about an aristocrat having bought the farm out from under the farmer.  
He grimaced and went away again. He didn’t want to deliver bad news to the King on the back of that, especially as Pleistoanax didn't like Alexios. Understandably, since Pausanias had been his father.  
He turned Phobos up the hill, then turned towards home, dismounting at the stables.   
He found Kassandra already there, rubbing down her own mount. She smiled at him, though as always, it contained a perhaps unintentional trace of wariness in it. ‘Chaire, brother.’  
‘Kassandra,’ he said, taking the saddle off Phobos. He took up a handful of hay and used it to brush the sweat off the horse's back. ‘I thought you’d left Sparta before me.’  
‘I did,’ she said, wiping a stray hair from her forehead with the back of her hand. ‘I’m back.’  
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You seem to be spending more time here than you used to.’  
She nodded. ‘I’m getting used to it – staying in one place for more than a few days at a time.’  
Alexios was brushing one side of Phobos, putting the horse between them; after a moment he heard Kassandra say, ‘I’m thinking of marrying.’  
He stood up abruptly, looking at her over the back of the horse in surprise. ‘You are? Who?’  
Kassandra had an amused glint in her eyes. ‘I haven’t told him yet, so I better not tell you.’  
He couldn’t help but laugh. ‘He has no idea you have long term designs on him?’  
She shook her head and went back to brushing her horse, smiling to herself.  
Alexios said, ‘I wish you good luck – and him even more so.’  
She laughed then, before sobering. ‘Have you spoken with Thaletas yet?’  
There was something in the tone of her voice that made him pause. ‘No – why?’  
She arched an eyebrow. ‘Our brother upset him,’ she said.  
Alexios rolled his eyes. ‘By the gods he's hopeless.’  
She said thoughtfully, ‘Have you noticed that he’s changed a lot lately – Stentor?’  
Alexios looked at her with an amused frown. ‘You mean like how he’s stopped looking at me and Thaletas like we’re enemies of the state? Yes – and thank the gods for small mercies.’  
She gave a lopsided smile. ‘That’s not what I meant, though perhaps that’s part of it. I think he’s started to feel like part of the family. He even admitted he wanted to help Thaletas a couple of days ago.’  
Alexios’ frown lost its amused slant. He asked dubiously, ‘Help him, how?’  
She shrugged. ‘You'd better talk to Thaletas about it – I’m just saying, try to remember that Stentor had the best intentions.’  
‘This isn’t giving me confidence, Kassandra! Is Stentor here?’  
‘No – haven’t you heard? The army marched out to Argolis yesterday. Stentor’s one of the generals, along with Agis and Elene’s brother Vettius.’  
‘That explains why it’s so quiet here today.’ He’d finished brushing Phobos, and offered him an apple. ‘Thaletas is at the house?’  
She shook her head. ‘He hasn’t been home for a couple of days. He said to tell you he’s at the cave.’  
Alexios thanked her, and set off towards the mountains.  
As he emerged from the trees, he saw that Thaletas was sitting on a log outside the cave that they had claimed as their own years before, when they’d spent a winter in Sparta falling in love with each other.   
Alexios paused in the cover of the trees for a long moment. Thaletas was sharpening his sword with slow strokes of the whetstone, totally focussed on what he was doing. His eternally messy hair was lit by a shaft of light falling on him through the tree canopy and lighting his face, almost as though Helios was caressing his beautiful face - and who could blame him? Alexios felt his heart skip a beat. Even after all the years, he still could not believe his luck.   
He stepped out of the shrubs. Thaletas looked up, and uncharacteristically dropped his sword, the melancholy look melting from his face in the joy of their greeting. They embraced without words, before Thaletas reached up sweetly, caressing his cheek and kissing him before he buried his face in the taller man’s shoulder. ‘I missed you so much.’  
‘I heard there’s been trouble,’ Alexios said gently. ‘Tell me what happened?’   
He sighed against his shoulder. Still not looking at him, he said, ‘Stentor talked to Isadora; told her she had acted wrongly to disown me.’  
Alexios gently disengaged so that he could look at Thaletas’ face. He saw that there were tears in his eyes, and one stealthed down his cheek. ‘I’m sorry Thaletas.’ He lovingly wiped the tear away with his thumb.  
Thaletas shrugged, and tried to sound unaffected. ‘It’s only more of the same.’  
Alexios sighed sadly. The familiar sense of guilt returned. ‘You’ve given up so much for me…’  
Thaletas interrupted him, seeing the direction of his thoughts. ‘I would do it all over again, a thousand times,’ he said in a low, intense voice. He took Alexios’ face between his hands and kissed him from the fullness of his heart; and for a time, there was only love between them.

Later, Alexios asked him, ‘What are you going to do about Stentor?’  
Thaletas looked at Alexios out of the corner of his eye. ‘Nothing. I know he meant well.’  
Alexios said grimly, ‘You’re more forgiving than I would be.’  
Thaletas smiled fondly at him. He still liked to imagine he had a hard heart, but Thaletas knew he was soft in the centre. ‘I don’t think I am.’   
Alexios snorted, but didn’t argue.  
After a long, comfortable silence, during which Alexios set about cleaning his armour, Thaletas continued, ‘You know, Stentor’s actions have really made me think about things. I came here so that I could think in peace.’   
Alexios glanced up from the breastplate which he was oiling and smiled wryly, acknowledging that the House of Leonidas was many things, but quiet was not one of them. ‘Like what?’  
‘For a long time, Isadora’s behaviour made me feel lonely, like an orphan.’ Alexios looked at him with an injured look, and he hastily added, ‘I had you, thank the gods; but I felt like I had no family of my own.’  
Alexios shook his head into the pause. ‘I’m sorry you felt like that.’  
‘No – that’s just it, Alexios. I realise now that her doing that to me has given me something far more valuable.’  
‘Which is?’  
He smiled shyly, and Alexios was reminded of the sun breaking out from behind a cloud. ‘I’m part of your family now in a way I would never have been had I still felt bound to Isadora. They accept me in a way that my mater never did, never could. She only wanted me because I could bring her military honour and grandsons – that much she has made abundantly clear; but your family…’ He trailed off, spreading his hands expansively. ‘Stentor may have made a mess of things, but he did it because he cares about me, and about you. That means something.’  
Alexios looked at him, feeling the love swelling up in his chest. He didn’t know what to say straight away, so he leaned over and kissed him gently. A moment later he joked, ‘You couldn’t have chosen a bigger bunch of misfits to call your own.’  
Thaletas grinned. ‘Birds of a feather!’  
Alexios grinned back, and having finished cleaning his armour, he stood and started to put it back on. ‘I have to go and see Pleistoanax, I suppose.’ He sighed.   
Thaletas was on his feet. ‘Don’t think you’re going alone.’  
Alexios raised an amused brow, but didn’t argue. He was just glad that Thaletas was ready to return to the world.

Pleistoanax seemed remarkably unconcerned when Alexios told him that Hermokrates had not been found in Athens and was probably dead. Alexios was downright puzzled to note that he almost sounded smug.  
‘Never mind about it,’ he said. ‘There are bigger fish to fry. I have a job for you both.’  
Alexios glanced at Thaletas, who was also frowning. ‘We aren’t looking for more work.’  
‘It’s not really a request. More an order from King to subject.’  
Alexios didn't take orders from anyone; but he gritted his teeth and said, ‘We’re mercenaries, not soldiers. We reserve the right to choose what work we do.’  
The king seemed to take this well; he said, ‘It’s only a small job, and will repay Sparta for your failure to retrieve our agent from Athens.’  
This irritated Alexios further, as if he had failed on purpose! Thaletas saw Alexios set his jaw and interposed, ‘Tell us about the job, my King.’  
Pleistoanax didn’t seem to notice Alexios’ reaction, and said to Thaletas, ‘I need you both to go to Argolis and join the army there. Agis will need your blades when the Athenians weigh in on the conflict.’  
Both mercenaries were shocked by this statement. Thaletas was the first to find his tongue. ‘You’re certain they will involve themselves?’  
He sounded condescending as he said, ‘Of course. You saw their preparations yourself – your information just confirmed what I already knew. Hermokrates isn’t our only agent, obviously.’  
His tone got Thaletas’ back up, but he said as calmly as he could, ‘You mean to say that Sparta marched on Argolis knowing that the action would most likely trigger the resumption of the war?’  
‘Resumption?’ Pleistoanax scoffed. ‘It never stopped. Did Athens give back the cities and islands they annexed as the treaty demanded? No. Did they cease their attempts to take Amphipolis from our allies there? No. Besides that, what do you think this whole business with Sicilia is about?’  
Alexios was aware he sounded angry. ‘You mean to say you listened to Alcibiades and voted to go to Sicilia?’  
‘I,’ Pleistoanax said with angry emphasis, ‘Am only the King. I was exiled, you might remember, for advocating peace with Athens; and I still advocate it; but the people voted to go to the aid of Sicilia. A fleet left at the same time as the army marched to Argolis.’  
Thaletas placed a warning hand on Alexios’ arm. ‘We’ll go to Argolis, my King, as you wish.’  
Pleistoanax didn’t immediately reply; he glowered at Alexios, who looked at the floor to avoid scowling back. When the king spoke, there was no veiling the threat in his voice. ‘See that you do. Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did to my father, Alexios; and don’t imagine I will ever forgive you for it.’  
Alexios looked up then, and for a long moment the two men eyed each other with naked hatred. In alarm, Thaletas dragged Alexios out of the throne room.

Once they were outside, Alexios snarled, ‘I should kill him too, the traitorous bastard!’ The guards who were standing outside the throne room looked at him in alarm, and Thaletas quickly reassured them that Alexios wasn’t being serious, before ushering him away towards home.  
‘You can’t say that kind of thing in public, Alexios!’  
He tried to get a grip on himself. ‘The gall of the man,’ he snarled. 'Forgive me! I don't need forgiveness for destroying a known traitor.'  
Thaletas said gently, ‘That traitor was his father. Not even he can believe that Pausanias was innocent.’  
Alexios didn't seem to hear him, because he continued on, ‘And that statement, that he still advocates peace. What a joke! I'll bet he didn't do a damn thing to sway the vote away from war.’  
Thaletas let him run, though he continued to say soothing things to him as they made the short walk back to the House of Leonidas, so that by the time they arrived, Alexios’ temper had cooled.   
‘I suppose we’ll ride out in the morning,’ he said grudgingly.   
Thaletas nodded agreement.  
Nikolaos, in his usual place by the door, overheard them. ‘Where are you two off to?’  
Alexios growled as he went past him into the house, ‘Pleistoanax has sent us to Argolis to join the army.’  
Nikolaos frowned at Thaletas. ‘The army are only ravaging the land. Why does our king think mercenaries are needed?’   
Thaletas had seated himself on a stool beside the Wolf, and stretched out his legs. In a resolute voice, he said, ‘The King believes that Athens will respond.’  
He narrowed his eyes slightly. ‘He does? That is not commonly known.’  
Thaletas frowned. ‘It wasn’t reported to the people before the vote was taken?’  
He shook his head slowly, his mouth setting in a straight line which Thaletas had learnt was the only sign Nikolaos ever gave that he was angry. When he spoke though, his voice was as mild as ever. ‘You should go with haste tomorrow. The generals do not know what is coming for them.’  
Thaletas said, ‘We will.’   
He sighed to himself. He didn't want to go at all, but action was better than sitting in Sparta, waiting to hear what the outcome was – and it would be dangerous to defy Pleistoanax after the interview they had just had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pleistoanax was the son of Pausanias, (though Pausanias wasn’t a king, but a regent – the game glossed that entirely and I’ve just gone with it.) Pleistoanax was exiled to Tegea between the years 445-427BC because in 445, he’d led an invasion into Attika and got as far as Eleusis before turning back for no apparent reason. He was exiled as it was believed that he had been bribed by Athens to retreat. He was recalled in 427 by an oracle of the Pythia – though it was rumoured that Pleistoanax had ‘tampered’ with the Pythia. He is mentioned as being an advocate of peace, but I’ve gone with the idea that he was pro-Athenian, as both are possible interpretations of his behaviour.  
> Interestingly, and what I haven’t mentioned here, was that when Sparta marched out twice against Argolis in 414BC; the first time though, there was an earthquake which they took as a bad omen, so they turned back, only to return later under better auspices.  
> Alcibiades did make a speech to the Spartans advocating they get involved in Sicilia, ‘to liberate Syracuse’, and Sparta did send a fleet under Gylippus.


	11. Taking Tiryns

Alexios and Thaletas were up early the following morning, before dawn had even opened her eyes. They quietly dressed, gathered their possessions, and went together down to the stables. Kassandra was already there, tying her saddle bags in place.  
There was something about the silence of the city, the early hour, that had them speaking in hushed voices.  
Alexios asked, ‘Where are you off to?’  
She said firmly, ‘I’m coming with you to Argolis.’  
Alexios wondered why, but he only nodded, and in silence, they finished their preparations and mounted up.  
Once they were out of the city, Thaletas said to Kassandra, ‘We've already decided we're going to cut through Smugglers Forest. It’ll save us a few hours.’  
‘We should have some fun then - those malakas bandits still have their camp across the north road,’ she said with a light grin. ‘They never learn.’

They travelled first through the Valley of the Two Kings, and then took the north road. It was early morning by the time they reached the bandit camp, and they could see from a short distance away two chunky looking brutes with long maces standing guard at the gate, which was built across the road.  
‘I never understood why the Spartans don’t just wipe this camp from the face of Greece,’ Alexios grumbled.  
‘It’s not Lakonia, I suppose, so why bother?’ Kassandra said cynically. ‘Besides, they just seem to appear again – like the hydras head: cut one off, ten more appear.’  
They approached the gateway still on horseback, weapons drawn.  
One of the guards called out, ‘Who are you?’ Even a blind man could have seen that these were not everyday travellers, bristling as they were with blades and gleaming armour. It was rare that anyone approached the camp so boldly, and he'd found that anyone who did, usually had cause to feel confident.  
Alexios replied conversationally, ‘I’m Alexios the Eagle Bearer; this is Thaletas the Lame Spartan, and this is…’  
He glanced at Kassandra, who smiled and said, ‘Kassandra, the Bringer of Fury.’  
Alexios raised his eyebrows with humour lurking on his lips at this name, but he didn’t comment then, only turned back to the guard. ‘We are three mercenaries, bound for Argolis; and you are going to let us pass without bother, aren’t you?’  
The brute had heard of Alexios – everyone had. He glanced at the second brute nearby, and said, ‘Get the chief, would you?’  
The second man, who was no more eager for a confrontation than the first, scurried away into the camp, and returned a moment later with an angry looking, weedy man who was evidentially the chief. In a bold voice, he said, ‘If you want to pass unharmed, you can pay us three thousand drachmae.’  
Alexios laughed. ‘Or – you can let us pass and we won’t kill you and every one of your men.’  
The first guard said hastily, ‘Chief – this is Alexios the Eagle Bearer.’  
The chief glared at the guard, then turned back to Alexios and stared at him for a long moment before he said, ‘I don’t care who he is. He can pay, or go to Hades.’  
Alexios took out his spear with a sigh. ‘Alright – since that’s what you want.’  
The first guard, who was the only bandit that saw the end of that day, later told anyone who would listen that he had never seen anything like it. He really couldn’t say how it happened; one moment there were five armed bandits descending on the gate, and the next moment, they were all dead, and the Eagle Bearer was standing in front of him, spear at his throat, demanding to know if he wanted to go down to Hades too? In the background he could see the Lame Spartan ending the two bandits over near the campfire, while the Bringer of Fury was finishing off the two guards outside the far gate. It was all over in moments.  
The guard stammered, ‘No, no. Don’t kill me.’  
Alexios dropped the spear and put it away. He said roughly, ‘If I see your face again, I won’t be so lenient.’  
The guard ran, and a few moments later the three mercenaries were mounted and on their way once more.  
Kassandra was frowning. ‘Why did you let him live?’  
Alexios gave her his most wolfish grin. ‘Someone has to keep the stories of my godly might circulating. There’s nothing worse than having to explain to people why they should fear me and sometimes it's just a bother teaching them.’  
Kassandra's expression hovered between amusement and disgust. ‘Your godly might? Are you serious?’  
Thaletas grinned and said dryly, 'He wishes.'  
‘What else would you call it?’ Alexios asked, flexing an arm in a ridiculous way.  
Kassandra raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, I don’t know – your insufferable big head?’  
Alexios laughed. ‘I'm not the only one with a big head, “Bringer of Fury.”’  
Kassandra grinned, but said, ‘Come on – we should hurry. The day’s passing.’

They reached the Spartan camp shortly before dusk. It had been erected very near Fort Tiryns, which could just be seen in the growing darkness. The commander's tent faced the old battlefield, and then away towards the fort lay the scattered barracks tents. The force that had come from Sparta was substantial for a raiding party, and the camp was busy with men training, the clank of armour being repaired, and the usual desultory conversations that soldiers always have in camp.  
The three mercenaries approached the command tent, and found the two generals, Stentor and Vettius, and the king, Agis, deep in discussion.   
They looked up when Alexios cleared his throat at the doorway. Stentor looked surprised to see them, and more than a little worried to see Thaletas, who'd disappeared after he'd yelled at him in the exercise yard in Sparta a few days earlier; Agis looked curious; and in Vettius' case, a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he saw Kassandra.  
Agis, the son of Archidemos, looked a lot like his father. He had a broad face with a square jaw, with a thick dark beard, and inquisitive grey eyes. In temperament, he was not as brusque as his father had been, but he was very old-fashioned in his beliefs, just as Archidemos had been.  
The king asked with a frown, ‘What is it?’  
Alexios said, ‘Pleistoanax sent us to join you. He wishes you to know that the Athenians are coming imminently, planning to face you in open battle.’  
Agis stared at him in surprise. ‘He said that?’  
‘An agent in Athens has assured him it is so, apparently.’  
Agis frowned. ‘He is organising reinforcements?’  
Alexios shook his head. ‘He didn’t say so, no.’  
Agis looked disgusted, then glanced at Stentor and Vettius. At last he looked back at Alexios and said, ‘Then I’m glad you’re here. We didn’t come prepared for open combat, we haven’t the numbers. We were just discussing whether it would be worth trying to seize Fort Tiryns, but if the Athenian army is coming, then there can be no doubt it will be the only thing that can save us.’  
Kassandra spoke up then. ‘Let us do that, my King.’  
Agis looked at her in surprise. ‘What do you mean, let you do that?’  
Stentor said, ‘Just as she says, my King. They will take the fort without a siege.’  
Agis looked at Stentor incredulously. ‘Really?'  
Stentor assured him, ‘They can do it.’  
The king still looked disbelieving, but said to Alexios, ‘If you can, then by all means do.’  
‘You’ll be inside by morning,’ Alexios assured him with a grin.  
They turned to go and prepare, but Agis called Alexios back for a moment. He said, ‘Do what needs to be done, but take as many prisoners as possible. Hostages will surely be useful in any negotiations that are sure to arise in the future.’ He added bitterly, 'And after Pylos, the prisoners they took on the island, they deserve to feel it.'  
Alexios nodded, and assured him they would take as many as they could. 

Stentor sought them out a short time later. He greeted Kassandra and Alexios, before eyeing Thaletas, who was crouched over, fishing something out of one of his saddle bags. Stentor cleared his throat, before saying abruptly, ‘Thaletas. I apologise for what happened…’  
Thaletas interrupted him. ‘Don’t. I know you had good intentions.’ He stood and rested a reassuring hand on his arm, before saying to Alexios, ‘I’m going to look over the forts defences. I’ll meet you there.’  
After he had gone out into the darkness, Alexios said, ‘You’re lucky he’s forgiving, Stentor.’  
Stentor shrugged as though he didn’t care one way or the other, but he had been worrying about the moment he would have to face Thaletas since leaving Sparta. He hastily changed the subject. ‘I’m glad you’re here, though surprised. Did Pleistoanax say how long he had known that the Athenians were going to get involved?’  
Alexios scowled. ‘That malaka knew all along. He said our information only confirmed what he already knew. Just like his traitorous father.’  
Stentor nodded. He was still not certain that Alexios had killed Pausanias, and had wilfully refused to discover the truth; he frowned and said, ‘That can't be true. He knows we aren't prepared for open battle.’  
Alexios rested a comforting hand on his shoulder briefly. ‘Perhaps – but then maybe that’s why he sent us.’  
Stentor rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, well, we’re saved then – you, against the entire Athenian ground force.’  
Alexios quirked an eyebrow and grinned. ‘You’ve seen me on the battlefield at least twice, Stentor. You know I …’  
Kassandra interrupted dryly, ‘We need to move, Alexios - while it's still night time.’  
Alexios chuckled, slapped Stentor on the shoulder, and turned out into the darkness.   
Stentor said to Kassandra, ‘Be careful.’ She winked, and followed Alexios.  
For a long moment, he looked out into the darkness after them with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach – worry, he thought. He was disgusted at himself, and turned back towards the commander’s tent, telling himself he just had indigestion.

Fort Tiryns was on the smaller side, as forts went. It had nothing on Desphina Fort, for example, Alexios thought; but that being said, it had had some drachmae spent on it in the years of peace, and was no longer in such a crumbling state as it had been.  
As Alexios crouched beside Thaletas, he murmured, ‘What do you think?’  
Thaletas said, ‘I think it’s clear that Athens has been expecting Sparta for a while. It’s fully manned.’  
Alexios nodded. ‘No doubt about it.’ He scanned the fort with Ikaros before saying, ‘We’ll approach from three directions: Kassandra take the southern end; Thaletas, you come in from the north. I’ll go through the cave and begin in the interior. Let’s try to keep it as quiet as possible.’  
They nodded agreement and dispersed.

Alexios cut across the open space around the fort and clambered into the cave, which anyone passing would have assumed was a sinkhole. He swiftly swam and climbed through the underground system of tunnels and caves, and emerged inside the fort.  
Crouching in a shrub, he used Ikaros to scan the immediate area, and found that the majority of the soldiers were already sleeping, leaving only the men on the walls and a few other patrols moving through the fort itself. The interior had always been untidy in the past, but along with the rebuilding of the walls, some care had been taken to remove much of the shrubbery and long grass that had proved so useful in the past. That was a shame.  
A patrol was passing, and for a moment longer, he remained in the shrub, feeling the adrenaline coursing through him as he prepared for action. It had been many years since he’d taken a fort, and it was the kind of job he liked the most. It wasn’t just that it tested his abilities to the utmost, but the knowledge that he was inevitably denting the enemy’s confidence, thinking as they were that they were safe behind the walls, added an extra element of pleasure to the task.  
He moved then, ducking into the first of a series of rooms against the walls. The first chamber contained four sleeping men; with great care, he knocked them unconscious one after the other, before moving to the next room. Here there were a number of storage crates, which he left, thinking that Sparta would be able to use their contents. He emerged once more, and looked up sharply when a guard called out to him from the walls, ‘Stop there!’  
In one swift movement, Alexios took out his bow, arming a paralysing arrow; but as he was about to loose it, he saw Kassandra appear behind the guard in the circle of light cast by the torch he was holding. She caught him in a headlock, and he dropped the torch, extinguishing it, so that Alexios could no longer see either of them. He put his bow away, and moved on.  
By the time he had reached the northern end of the interior, having only killed one man by accident – he had knocked him out, but the man had given a great lurch, and landed in a fire - the other two had completed their own circuits and were discussing what to do with the unconscious members of the garrison.  
Thaletas asked as he approached, ‘Any casualties?’  
‘Only one. He fell in the fire.’  
Kassandra said, ‘That makes four all up. Agis should be happy with that. I’ll let command know that we have the Fort in hand.’  
‘Leave us all the heavy lifting, why don’t you?’ Alexios said jokingly.  
She raised an eyebrow, and said, 'Use that godly strength of yours and you'll be done in no time.'  
Alexios chuckled, and he and Thaletas set about bringing the unconscious men to the open space at the northern end of the fort.

They had just brought the last man down from the walls when the Spartan army began to arrive. It was a little longer before Agis came to them to survey the prisoners. By then the sun was rising, and Alexios and Thaletas had settled on a low wall, helping themselves to beakers full of better than average Athenian wine, watching over their captives. There were more than forty in total. Many of them had regained consciousness, and were staring at the two mercenaries with resentment.  
Agis approached them, shaking his head lightly.  
‘I thought you were crazy when you said you could take the fort without a siege. Incredible. Thank you both.’ He shook hands with them, and then looked at the captives. ‘Which of you is the fort polemarch?’ he asked the captives.  
Alexios pointed him out. ‘That’s Karipos there, my King.’  
He was a big man, tall and severe, and in his later years, so undoubtedly a veteran from before the peace. He was wearing plain armour – still holding to the pretence that they were not really Athenians. Alexios had wondered at it – it was a little late for subterfuge.  
Agis grinned at him. ‘So, Karipos. I hear that your army is on their way. I suppose you thought we didn’t know?’  
He made no reply, only stared at the king.  
Agis shook his head, and continued, ‘In any case, they will have arrived too late for you and your garrison.’ He turned to one of his hoplites who was hovering nearby, listening to what was going forward, and said, ‘Arrange to have these men transported back to Sparta immediately.’  
The hoplite bowed his head and hurried away. Agis continued to question Karipos, keeping his voice light, but the threat obvious, ‘You're of an age to remember how the prisoners from the Island were used against us by you Athenians. You will soon discover what it's like on the other side of such treatment.’  
The polemarch spat, but Agis had turned away.  
He said to the two mercenaries casually, as he went towards the command centre, ‘Don’t drink too much of that wine. You’ll have work to do later today.’ His look was sharp though.  
Alexios glanced at Thaletas, and they both went with Agis.   
Thaletas asked, ‘Have scouts confirmed their whereabouts?’  
‘The Athenian fleet, complete with troop carriers, has arrived off the coast of Epidaurus. They are unloading even as we speak. We have people watching them closely. We’ll know when they march out.’  
‘With your permission, my King, we’d like to check them out for ourselves,’ Alexios said.  
‘Then do so.’ He smiled and said dryly, ‘If you can take a fort without a siege, I see no reason you shouldn’t go wherever you like.’  
‘Thank you,’ Thaletas said.  
When Agis had moved away, Alexios said, ‘If only Pleistoanax had his sense.’  
Thaletas looked at him and said dryly, ‘The Agiad line - nothing but trouble!’  
Alexios grinned, and winked at him. ‘Can't argue with the truth.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical note: The "prisoners taken on the island" that Agis is talking about at the end of this chapter refers to the (real) battle of Pylos in 425BC.  
> Unlike the portrayal in the game, the Battle of Pylos was a series of events which happened over seventy-two days, and was never really a set-piece battle. The prisoners from the island crop up a lot in the history, so I had to mention them.  
> A rough outline of what really happened: Demosthenes sneakily had the Athenians building a fort at Pylos, which was Spartan territory. There were many attempts to re-take the area, including one time when Brasidas led a naval attack against the garrison, and was dangerously wounded leaping from his wrecked boat in an attempt to gain the shore. In the early stages, the Spartans transferred a number of hoplites to 'the island' (Sphacteria, which in the game isn't an island at all) and they became stranded there, cut off from the mainland by the strength of the Athenian navy. After attempts to negotiate the return of these men failed, Athens attacked (led by Cleon), sweeping along the length of the island. They were totally successful, capturing 292 Spartan soldiers (120 actual Spartans), and killing 128 with virtually no casualties on their side. This did a lot to bolster Cleon's reputation, and led to his being sent to Amphipolis years later to face Brasidas.  
> These captives were used as bargaining chips and as propaganda to damage Sparta's morale (and increase their own) until the declaration of peace in 421BC, when they were finally returned to Sparta - though they received a very cold welcome there.


	12. False Reports, or Facts?

The Spartans spent the morning settling into Fort Tiryns and transporting the captives away to the south, so that by the middle of the day the fort was in perfect order, watches had been set, and scouts had been sent east to report in regular relays where the Athenian army was and what they were doing. There was an air of grim watchfulness and tension as everyone waited to see what would unfold, in the full expectation that the Athenians would attack the fort as soon as they arrived in the area.   
Alexios had forgotten about that feeling during the years of peace – the night before battle was always intolerable. He grimly acknowledged that he hadn’t missed it one little bit.   
Alexios and Thaletas had gone to Epidaurus and viewed the army as they had said they would, but it was too early to tell what their intentions were; and as the day passed without any sign of their army marching on Tiryns, it became clear they were not going to attack the Spartans that day.   
‘Perhaps they don’t know we’re here,’ Thaletas suggested late in the day, the shadows growing long, as he and Alexios sought out a spot on the walls at the northern end of the fort to talk privately and finish off the wine they’d set aside that morning.  
Alexios lowered himself onto the edge of the rampart and set about pouring them a beaker of wine each. ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘Still, they also seem in no hurry to find out.’  
‘We’ll have a better idea after we’ve been out tonight,’ Thaletas said decisively. ‘Scouts never know what they’re talking about.’  
Alexios smiled wryly. ‘That’s the older Spartan General coming out in you,’ he joked as he handed him a beaker; but for a moment, Thaletas didn’t take it – he was squinting a little into the sun and frowning.  
Alexios asked, ‘What is it?’  
Thaletas said, ‘Is that Kassandra down there?’  
Alexios looked to where Thaletas indicated. The two of them were sitting in a spot that allowed a clear view into the building that was still in ruins at the northern end of the fort, which was being used as the armoury. Alexios began to chuckle. ‘Well, well, well,’ he said.  
Thaletas said with a hint of humour in his voice as he took the beaker from Alexios, ‘Is she... making out with Vettius?’  
Alexios said, ‘That’s what it looks like to me. Come on, let’s go sit somewhere else.’  
As they moved a short distance along the wall, Thaletas said, ‘You don’t seem surprised?’  
‘That she’s got herself a man? No. That it’s Vettius – well, perhaps.’ The Spartan general was both younger and shorter than Kassandra - not the usual thing that women went for - but he was handsome enough, Alexios supposed. ‘He at least seems sensible.’  
Before Thaletas could reply, they were interrupted by Stentor, stalking down the wall towards them with his usual scowl.  
‘Have you seen Vettius?’ he demanded.  
Alexios grinned. ‘We have. I believe he’s in the armoury.’  
‘What’s he doing there? Agis sent him to fetch the requisition list from the granary and he never came back.’ Then he noticed Alexios’ face, and narrowed his eyes a little. ‘Why are you grinning?’  
‘Vettius is... meeting with our sister at present. I'm sure he’ll return to the king as soon as he’s, err, done.’  
Stentor’s face went from suspicion, to puzzlement, to disgust in quick succession; he puffed up and said, ‘I cannot believe at a time like this he’s had his head turned!’  
‘Are you going to report him?’ Thaletas asked seriously, though his eyes were gleaming with amusement.  
Stentor raised an angry brow and said, ‘I should.’  
‘But?’ Thaletas asked.  
Stentor grumbled to himself and went back the way he came, saying over his shoulder grouchily, ‘If you see him before I do, tell him he’s needed - at once! - in the command building.’  
Alexios watched him go, then whistled for Ikaros. A moment later, Thaletas saw the bird diving towards the armoury, give a squeal, then dart back into the sky.   
Vettius came scuttling out, straightening himself and putting his helmet under his arm, and hurried towards the command building at the southern end of the fort.

‘I hope you two are enjoying yourselves,’ Kassandra said from behind them a moment later. They both turned and looked up at her, grinning.   
Alexios said gregariously, ‘I should say you’ve been having more fun than we have.’  
She was flushed, her eyes sparkling, but she remained serious as she said, ‘Do you think you can keep this to yourselves?’  
‘Too late,’ Alexios said. ‘Stentor already came looking for Vettius. I told him you were discussing important matters, but I fear he read between the lines.’  
‘Malaka,’ she said. ‘Is he going to report him?’  
‘I don’t think so. It seems you’re right - he’s going soft. Still - I didn’t think Vettius ought to keep Agis waiting.’  
She sat down beside Alexios, took his beaker of wine and drank it off, before handing it back and giving a contented sigh.  
Alexios looked at her and raised one brow, ‘So - are you going to tell us how this came about?’  
She said, ‘Not a chance.’  
‘I didn’t think you’d choose a Spartan,’ he said, filling the beaker again from the amphora that Thaletas handed to him.  
She raised one eyebrow, looking momentarily very much like Alexios, Thaletas thought with a smile. ‘And I didn’t think you would either, but here we are.’  
Alexios laughed. ‘Fair enough. Have you told him your plans yet?’  
Kassandra shrugged, ‘Perhaps when the campaign is over. When things are less uncertain.’  
Alexios sighed. ‘What’s certain? I think we all know better this time, don’t we? No one is thinking the war’s going to be over by summer's end – that’s the only certainty.’ He took a drink, and looked at Thaletas lovingly for a moment; Thaletas smiled back. ‘There was a time when I hesitated because things were too uncertain, and that led me to waste many years of my life.’  
She looked from one to the other with a smile lurking at the corner of her mouth. ‘You two are sickening,’ she said, ‘But for once, you’re right.’  
Alexios grinned. ‘It happens sometimes.’  
She stood. ‘Then I’ll do it now. No time like the present.’  
He looked at her in genuine surprise. ‘Really? Now?’  
‘Why not?’ She said as she jumped down from the wall, and straightening her shoulders, went away towards the command building.  
Thaletas asked, ‘What was that about?’  
Alexios grinned. ‘She’s gone to propose marriage to Vettius.’  
Thaletas gaped at him. ‘What?! But… She’s… That’s…’  
Alexios chuckled. ‘I think the word you’re looking for is "Kassandra". That’s Kassandra.’  
He shook his head incredulously. ‘I wonder what Vettius will say?’  
Alexios said humorously, ‘I doubt he would dare to say no.’ Unexpectedly, he leant over and kissed Thaletas then, lingering for just a moment, before resting his forehead against his. In a voice that was warm and caressing, he said, ‘When this is all over, I swear, we’re not taking work for the rest of the year. I’m going to keep you all to myself.’  
Thaletas chuckled, feeling the familiar flutter of love and yearning in his stomach. ‘You always say that, but you never follow through.’  
Alexios looked into his eyes and said, ‘This time, I mean it.’

As the dusk faded to black, Alexios and Thaletas slipped out of the fort.   
The enemy were encamped on an open area between Epidaurus and Argos. They could hear the usual sounds of camp; a few guards were posted on watch, but they didn’t seem particularly focussed.  
‘They’re settled in, I would say,’ Thaletas whispered.  
‘Agreed; and not the slightest bit worried about us.’  
Thaletas frowned, ‘I really think they don’t know we’re here – but how can that be?’  
He considered this for a long moment. ‘We know they’ve come by sea. I’m thinking they’re on their way to Sicilia, and have stopped to gather additional provisions before they sail.’  
Thaletas said thoughtfully, ‘That would explain it.’  
They moved away from the camp, heading back towards the fort. Alexios said, ‘If that’s the case, we can relax a little; but there’s still Pleistoanax’s alleged Athenian army coming to defend the Argives to think about. If he’s right – and it would be dangerous to assume otherwise - then we need to act. The last thing we want is two armies against us.’  
Thaletas said after another moment, ‘Their ships will still be at Epidaurus. We should make it clear to them that they should carry on – now.’  
Alexios glanced at him in the dim light of the stars with a smile. ‘That’s a thought. Let’s go talk to Agis.’

On Agis' orders, the two mercenaries took the road east from Fort Tiryns, riding quickly towards Epidaurus, before leaving their horses at the shrine of Aesculapius outside the city limits and cautiously entering the city.  
They saw at once that the place was crawling with Athenian soldiers in uniform, watching the approaches and patrolling the streets.  
Alexios looked at Thaletas meaningfully as they crouched in a patch of low scrub and he nodded slightly. They had discussed the details of how to go about their mission at length, and had agreed that before they would take any action, they needed to establish just how many ships there were, and whether they were in fact bound for Sicilia. Alexios was going to the northern end of the city to get a better look at the bay and the port, while Thaletas was going rooftop to rooftop, eavesdropping on the soldiers, before going to speak with a contact who lived at the southern end of town where Alexios would re-join him.  
They parted ways, Alexios headed towards the port. Thaletas watched him go, then climbed up the nearest building. He was disappointed, though. Sometimes you got lucky, and could learn the entire plan of a unit just by listening in to soldiers' talk; but that night, everyone was subdued and very watchful. It seemed that there was a firm hand at the helm of this particular outfit.  
He made his way carefully towards the house of their contact, finding it in total darkness. He climbed up to the second floor and let himself into the bedroom of Pitakos.  
The ex-Spartan – or so he was careful to style himself – was asleep, and as Thaletas came into the room, he sprang from the bed with a dagger before him.   
‘Who are you?’ he demanded.  
‘It’s me, Thaletas,’ he said, holding out both hands. ‘I’ve come for information.’  
Pitakos dropped the dagger with a sigh of relief, a warm smile spreading across his face. ‘Thaletas. It’s been a long time.’  
Thaletas relaxed, flushing a little. ‘Since Boeotia, I think. How have you been?’  
Pitakos fumbled around with a torch for a moment, lighting it from a tiny lamp, and the room was revealed in all its elaborate, Athenian style luxury.   
Thaletas raised a brow and said, ‘You’ve done well for yourself, it seems.’  
Pitakos snorted. ‘Don’t be deceived by appearances. I have to fit in, or they’d never buy the story.' He looked him over with a fond look on his face then. 'You're looking very well. Wine?’  
‘No thanks, but don’t let me stop you from having one.’  
He nodded and poured himself a beaker before asking, ‘What are you doing here? Anyone would think you were a misthios, finding you in my room at night, no warning of your coming.’  
Thaletas smiled. ‘That’s because I am.’  
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘Really? What happened? I thought you, of all people, would have been in the army for life?’ He offered him a seat, and they both sat, before Thaletas began recounting an outline of what had occurred since their time in Boeotia, though self-consciously not mentioning Alexios.   
When he reached the end, he said, ‘So, you see – I’m here on behalf of King Agis. I need to know the purpose of the Athenians here.’  
Pitakos nodded. ‘They're on their way to Sicilia, although I know there are definitely spies amongst their number who have dispersed throughout the region, though I haven't been able to find out what they're up to exactly.' He shrugged. ‘I’d assume they’re doing just what I am – watching, waiting.’  
Alexios arrived then. Pitakos looked at Thaletas with something of concern on his face, but he smiled reassuringly. ‘This is Alexios, the Eagle Bearer – a friend.’  
Pitakos’ face cleared, and he said warmly, ‘Welcome, Alexios. I’ve heard a lot about you over the years.’   
Alexios grinned and said, ‘I get that a lot.’   
Pitakos offered him a seat, and Alexios took it, perching on the edge as though he was ready to spring up again. Thaletas thought absently, unaware of a smile that sprung to his lips, that it was no wonder he made many people nervous; he was almost too vividly alive, buzzing with energy. Thaletas didn't notice Pitakos glance at him and sigh quietly to himself, but Alexios did.  
‘Did you get a good look at the bay?’ Thaletas asked, catching Alexios' attention.  
He nodded. ‘There’s at least forty ships there, and more at the port. There are guards everywhere dockside. I’m not sure how we can get close enough to do anything without being seen.’  
Pitakos tilted his head. ‘You probably don’t need to. They’ll be sailing the day after tomorrow. They've only stopped to gather further grain provisions for the crossing.’  
‘Agis is concerned about a second army coming overland from Athens,’ Thaletas explained. ‘Pleistoanax received intelligence which he believes is good; we don’t want to face two land armies when we are only a small raiding force.’  
Pitakos frowned and shook his head. ‘I’ve heard nothing about that – not even a rumour. It’s still accepted here that Athens will hold to the Peace of Nicias and leave Argolis to suffer what the Spartans choose to inflict upon it, as they have done for years now. I can’t see them doing anything to cause a renewal of hostilities here, when they have just started a war against Syracuse. There are spies out in the Argolid, as I just said, but no army.’  
Thaletas considered this, and looked at Alexios. ‘I wonder…’  
Alexios nodded. ‘Interesting.’ Then he stood, saying, ‘We should get back and report to Agis. Thank you for your help Pitakos.’  
‘Of course,’ he said. He shook hands with Thaletas, and said warmly, ‘Take care of yourself.’  
‘You too, old friend.’

They reached their horses without being spotted and mounted up.   
‘What do you make of that?’ Thaletas asked as they turned back west, making for the fort.  
Alexios said, ‘I think there’s no army marching on Sparta from Athens. The Argives would definitely know if there was.’  
Thaletas frowned. ‘So, do you think Pleistoanax intended us to break the truce under the illusion that these men bound for Sicilia are an invading force?’  
Alexios frowned. ‘I think the king has been lied to by someone who wants us to do that, yes. If Pleistoanax really believed that it would be us breaking the peace, he’d try to prevent it.’  
‘Because you think he’s pro-Athenian. But what if you’re wrong?’  
Alexios shook his head. ‘It’s Alcibiades.’  
‘Lying to the king?’  
‘He lies to everyone else, why not to the king as well? He’s made it clear he wants us to renew the hostilities in Greece to drain resources from Athens’ war on Syracuse. It would have been the perfect ploy, if we’d fallen for it.’  
Thaletas sighed. ‘I don’t fancy telling Pleistoanax that.’  
Alexios shook his head. ‘No need to. We’ll tell Agis, and our duty is done.’  
They rode in silence for a short while, before Alexios asked, ‘How do you know Pitakos?’  
Thaletas coolly said, ‘We served together in Boeotia – before he transferred to the Krypteia.’  
Alexios looked at Thaletas from the corner of his eye. He said, ‘And?’  
Thaletas glanced at him, his face flushing a little.   
Alexios feigned being incensed. ‘So!’ he said accusingly, ‘At last I've met one of your lovers! I should have a good long sulk about it, don’t you think? That you didn’t warn me beforehand, that you might have loved him once, you faithless bastard!’  
Thaletas felt a little sick, and said defensively, ‘It wasn’t like that, Alexios, I swear. It just happened one time. I was…’ He trailed off then, as Alexios broke out into a grin.   
It took him a moment to realise what was happening; then he said, ‘You bastard!’ He was swamped by a feeling of intense relief, laced with irritation. ‘I thought you were genuinely upset!’  
Alexios sobered a little, though amusement still twinkled in his eyes. ‘If I was, it would be no more than you deserve.’ He looked at him then with a warm, playful look. ‘But I know that you could never love anyone as you love me.' He grinned at his own arrogance.  
Thaletas did not look mollified, though there was humour loitering in his face. He glowered at him, and said waspishly, ‘Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you!’  
Alexios just grinned, and chuckled to himself.


	13. A Clear Horizon

Two days passed, and there was no sign of an army from Athens. The Spartans kept a very close watch on the forces encamped near Epidaurus; saw the carts passing to and from the port, carrying grain and other supplies for the expedition to Sicilia. Then, just as Pitakos had said they would, at the beginning of the following day, the army returned to Epidaurus and the soldiers began boarding the ships.   
Alexios and Thaletas were atop a double storey house in the early morning, before the town had done more than crack one eye open and grimace at the idea of getting out of bed, watching to ensure they actually did sail away   
Alexios was frowning. ‘I feel like we’ve missed a chance here.’  
Thaletas shook his head lightly. ‘Agis was right to let them go. It would have been suicide to provoke them when they were uninterested in us.’  
They fell silent for a moment, as the first of the ships disappeared around the curve of the bay, heading south.   
Alexios said, ‘I’m glad anyway. Now our work here is done, we can go home…’ He trailed off, and moving close to Thaletas, he traced a suggestive finger along the skin that was exposed above his armour at the nape of his neck. Thaletas’ skin broke into goosebumps as Alexios said in a voice thick with desire, ‘I’ve been longing to touch you...’ He dropped his head to that exposed skin, kissing it and breathing deeply of his warm scent. He mumbled, ‘It feels like forever since I held you...’  
Thaletas closed his eyes and with a groan of reciprocal longing he swayed into Alexios’ embrace. Since they’d spent the night in the Tomb of Agamemnon, Thaletas had been careful to hold back his desire for his lover; in part because of their situation, but in part because he had still not entirely forgiven Alexios for having loved someone other than him; though he knew this was ridiculous, he couldn’t help his feelings.   
That morning though, he’d been acutely conscious of Alexios: he’d watched him dress from under his lashes in the half-light of the barracks, a lump in his throat at the perfection of his body and the aching desire to reach out to him, to take him to himself; he’d watched him since, desire swelling in him until it was almost a pain; the touch of Alexios’ roughened fingers followed by the soft warmth of his lips on the sensitive skin of his neck completely undid him, and the last shred of his self-control disappeared. He moaned with the full force of his desire. ‘Gods, I want you right now, right here.’  
Alexios chuckled, almost delirious with the surge of passion that overwhelmed him. He raised his head and holding Thaletas’ face between his hands, he took his mouth. Without knowing what they did, lost in the intensity of their love, they sank onto a stack of cushions in one corner of the roof terrace, fevered hands desperately pulling at the ties and knots that held their armour in place, oblivious to everything beyond each other.  
‘I love you,’ Thaletas moaned into Alexios’ mouth, ‘By the Gods, I love you.’   
Alexios, unable to find the words to express his own feelings, kissed his way downwards, and sought to show Thaletas in the best way he knew how. 

Some time later Thaletas opened his eyes from a light doze, his head resting in Alexios’ lap, and found Alexios watching him sleep, an expression of such intense love on his face that it left Thaletas slightly breathless; he held his gaze, saying in sleepy, dazed wonder, ‘How can it be that I love you more as time passes? It doesn’t seem possible.’  
‘I don’t know,’ Alexios replied, shaking his head in wonder, running a loving thumb along the beautiful slant of Thaletas’ cheek. ‘It’s a gift from the gods I do not deserve.’  
Thaletas smiled softly and closed his eyes again, sighing contentedly. 

They returned to the fort at a lazy speed, enjoying one another’s company and the beautiful weather. The sun was hot on their backs, the first inkling of the summer to come. Thaletas went to pass the good news on to Agis, while Alexios went to gather their things and find Kassandra.  
She was talking with Stentor when he tracked her down, and they were both looking very serious.  
Stentor asked, ‘Did the fleet leave as we hoped?’  
Alexios nodded. ‘There’s still a couple of ships in the harbour, but otherwise, you’re in the clear.’  
Stentor said, ‘Our King will be pleased. I suppose you’re returning to Sparta?’  
Alexios glanced at Kassandra as he said, ‘That’s what we intended. I still need to collect my bounty from Alcibiades before we can go home. I just came to see if you were coming with us, Kassandra?’  
She shook her head. ‘Agis wants me to stay with the army.’  
Seeing Alexios frown in enquiry, Stentor explained, ‘We’ll recommence raiding now, as was originally planned, before returning to Sparta.’  
Alexios nodded and grinned. ‘Alright. Well, you look after yourselves. I know it’s going to be harder without me to watch your backs…’  
They both sneered at him in the same way, which made Alexios chuckle. He turned to go, but then turned back for a moment. ‘What shall I tell our parents about Vettius?’ he asked Kassandra, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.  
She said brusquely, ‘Nothing. I’ll make the announcement when I return.’  
‘So, he was agreeable, then?’ he looked at Stentor, who was frowning disapprovingly. He was disgusted with both Kassandra and Vettius for their lack of focus and dedication to the matter in front of them, but he wasn’t going to say anything.  
‘He was.’  
Alexios grinned. ‘Congratulations, then,’ he said, ‘I’ll see you both back in Sparta.’

Alcibiades was sitting on the porch of Endius’ fine house in Pitana when Alexios came striding up the hill in the dusk. Alexios and Thaletas had made good time back to Sparta, and he’d left his lover chatting with Myrrine and Nikolaos at the house. Understandably, Thaletas had not wanted to speak with Alcibiades again, so Alexios had come alone.  
‘You’re back,’ Alcibiades said, offering Alexios a beaker of wine, which he declined, ‘And much sooner than I could have hoped. Did you kill him?’  
Alexios had always had mixed feelings about Alcibiades; he’d figured out very early on that he was a meddler and a trouble maker, but Alexios himself had never been the victim in Alcibiades’ plots until now. He was, to put it mildly, angry with him. In a curt voice, he said, ‘He’s been dealt with. I was also able to get the bounty retracted, so you need only pay me my standard fee.’ He was looking out at the mountains in the distance, avoiding eye contact. He was wondering what Alcibiades would say if he really couldn’t pay – and wondering what he might do to him if he couldn’t. It was the excuse he would need to finish the wretched man off.  
‘Wonderful!’ Alcibiades said, looking at him from under his lashes. ‘You must have come across my friends, Lykinos and Timotheos, then.’  
Alexios slowly turned to look at him, his face carefully frozen, but his rage no doubt showed all too clearly in his face.  
Alcibiades began to chuckle, though there was a hint of nervousness in it. ‘I know, I know. I should have told you; but it must have been far more interesting for you to find out by surprise!’  
Alexios said with careful restraint, ‘How long did you know about them?’  
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said, waving a hand in the air. ‘Since the bounty was raised, I suppose. Lykinos and I… connected just after they arrived in Athens.’  
Alexios stared at Alcibiades with a stony expression, which Alcibiades ignored as he continued,  
‘He told me the whole story, you know; your betrayal, despite both of them being desperately in love with you – I could sympathise, you know; his being sold into slavery in Korinthia, to some man named Hermokrates who used him in unimaginable ways…’ He trailed off, feigning thoughtfulness. ‘You can’t really blame them for hating you, can you? I think even my affection for you would have been tested if you’d treated me like that.’   
Alexios said abruptly, ‘I only came here to collect. I’m not interested in your misunderstandings of my past.’  
‘Misunderstandings? What have I misunderstood?’  
‘I said I’m not interested,’ Alexios snapped, springing to his feet. ‘Pay up – if you can!’  
Alcibiades said, ‘Temper, temper! You’ll get your drachmae, Alexios. They took my property in Athens but I have resources elsewhere. I’ll have it sent to your parents’ house in the morning.’  
‘See that you do.’ He began walking away, but he paused for a moment, looking back. ‘I don’t want to hear from you again, Alcibiades,’ he said tersely, ‘and I mean ever; And stay the hell away from Thaletas.’  
Alcibiades didn’t reply to this, only narrowed his eyes and drank his wine, watching the misthios walk away like a cat who has allowed a mouse to escape… for now.

As Alexios walked back down the hill from Pitana towards Sparta, his temper soon cooled.   
The night was as sharp and clear as a diamond as he looked up at the moon in the sky, and began to hum a tune to himself absentmindedly.   
Alcibiades was a snake, but everything else was right in the world again: Hermokrates, if he had been killed as Alexios supposed, had only received his just reward for treating Lykinos cruelly, and his removal had made no impact on Sparta that he could see; he’d been horrified that the war was about to flare up anew, but it looked like the peace was going to hold for a little longer – though who knew how much longer. He’d even got paid when he’d expected that to be a trouble. Best of all, that bounty was gone, and the Greek world was open to him again.   
Not that he cared much about that. He didn’t want the Greek world; all he wanted was home - he and Thaletas would ride back to Stymphalos tomorrow, richer and freer than they’d ever been and they would spend a quiet summer together, working out and sparring, taking small jobs around the town, making love….   
He felt a shiver of anticipation. This time, he was going to make good on his promise, and keep Thaletas entirely to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Note:  
> After the withdrawal of the Spartans from Argolis later that summer, Athens did send an army to Argolis and break the Peace of Nicias.  
> The following spring, in response, the Spartans marched into Attika… But that’s a whole other story :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Harper :)


End file.
